


I like it when you sleep

by s_coups



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe, Angst, CEO Mingyu, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Single Dad Minghao, Sleep Apnea, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-01
Packaged: 2018-08-31 15:38:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8584027
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/s_coups/pseuds/s_coups
Summary: for you are so beautiful yet so unaware. (or, junghan struggles to find someone new who cares if he dies in his sleep, and is surprised when he does.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> never in my life have i been so emotionally invested in a fic, or spent so much time cultivating and writing it. this fic is honest to god my /baby/ and i am so so proud of it. i hope you enjoy it as much as i did writing it.

Junghan is adjusting the settings on his humidifier, sitting on the edge of his bed in an oversized tank top and boxers (which he thinks are Hansol’s). His hair is pulled up into a messy knot at the top of his head, but a few pieces stick to his skin uncomfortably. It’s ridiculously hot out, the windows thrown open all the way doing nothing to ease his sweaty skin and flushed face. He’s contemplating just sleeping naked when he hears the front door slam open, and Hansol loudly slurring his name. Junghan just sighs, flicks the on switch on his humidifier and lays back on his bed, watching the mist curl and dissipate into the air from it.

Hansol stumbles into his room a few seconds later. His hair is slicked back, a few strands falling in his face, and he’s got a leather jacket and jeans on despite the heat. How he was wearing that and not passing out from sheer over exertion just walking from the front door to here, Junghan had no idea. He voices his concern out loud, but Hansol just ignores him.

“I found my alpha,” Hansol announces dramatically, lisping slightly from the alcohol that rolls off him in waves of stench. He struggles to pull his jacket off, tossing it haphazardly over Junghan’s desk chair, and then starting to work on his pants.

“You said that two days ago,” Junghan sighs, rubbing his forehead and frowning at the slick sweat that covers it. Maybe he should take another shower. “And last Sunday.”

“This time I mean it,” Hansol says seriously, finally pulling his jeans off with a loud ripping sound that sounds like the seams popping. He doesn’t seem to notice, throwing his jeans over the chair as well and flopping beside Junghan in his boxers and tee. He starts struggling immediately with pulling his shirt off as well.

“Are you going to just get naked?” Junghan mutters, but he takes pity on the younger and helps tug his shirt over his head, messing up his hair in the process. “You should shower, you smell gross.”

“You like how I smell,” Hansol insists, ignoring Junghan’s shower suggestion and instead reaching out for the elder. Junghan rolls his eyes but lets the other pull him into his lap so that he’s straddling his hips, looking down at the younger. Hansol grips his waist gently, thumbs dipping just below Junghan’s boxers to rub circles on his hipbones. He tugs slightly, and Junghan takes it as invitation to lean down, let Hansol press his lips against his cheek, over his jawline and down his neck. Junghan sighs, blinking sleepily, the younger’s hair tickling his nose.

“Why is your humidifier on? It’s hot,” Hansol suddenly complains, and Junghan sighs again, for entirely different reasons.

“I’ve told you before, it helps my sleep apnea,” Junghan mumbles, rolling off the younger but staying close beside him so that their shoulders touch. “You’re so annoying when you’re drunk.” Hansol just grins devilishly at him.

“So, what’d he look like?” Junghan asks as Hansol shifts so he can pull Junghan closer to his chest.

“Hmm? Who?”

“Your alpha?”

“Oh, yeah,” Hansol’s eyes are starting to slip closed. “He was cute. Real cute. Minghao said he was a lawyer or something.”

“You can’t get a lawyer,” Junghan comments, carding his fingers through Hansol’s hair. It’s hard from hair gel but still muses in his hand. “They’re too high class.”

“You sayin’ I’m not high class?” Hansol mutters, and his voice breaks off into a mix between a moan and a sigh as Junghan starts scratching his scalp.

“You always come before me,” Junghan laughs softly. “I don’t think someone like a lawyer would want that in an omega.”

“Whatever, I think he had a small dick anyway,” Hansol shoves his face into Junghan’s collarbones, inhaling deeply. The room smells like crisp citrus from the oils Junghan had dipped into his humidifier, and Hansol smells less like alcohol and more like his usual self, a comfortable mix of vetiver and birchwood. Hansol smells like what Junghan thinks a forest would smell like after the rain; muted, but at the same time crisp and clear.

They lay in silence for a few minutes, until Junghan deems Hansol deep enough in sleep that shifting won’t wake him. He stands up and turns off the light, closes the shades so the sun won’t hurt the younger’s eyes in the morning.

When he crawls back into bed, Hansol wraps his arms around him subconsciously, mumbling into Junghan’s skin. Junghan sighs, pulling the sheets over him and closing his eyes.

“Love you,” Hansol breathes out suddenly, breath warm against Junghan’s shoulder.

“Stop looking for an alpha,” Junghan murmurs. “I don’t wanna be alone."

Hansol doesn’t respond, and Junghan thinks he’s gone back to sleep when he suddenly mutters, “I like your hair down better.”

 

Junghan wakes up around two in the morning, gasping for air, throat constricted and chest tight. He tries to heave in breaths for a moment, anxiety hitting him like a freight train as he realizes he can’t breathe. He kicks his legs, flails his arms, panicking, until finally he breathes in huge gulps of air. He starts coughing violently, wheezing as he tries to get his breath back. This all happens within a few seconds, and when Junghan comes to his sense, Hansol is there, arms around his shoulder and offering him a glass of water.

Junghan takes a short sip, still coughing heavily. Hansol rubs circles on his back, another hand pushing his hair, which must’ve fallen down while he slept, to one side.

“It’s okay,” Hansol murmurs, and his voice is soothing over the sound of the humidifier.

“You’re okay.”

Junghan hiccups, can feel tears starting to slip out of his eyes. Hansol starts tying his hair back up, and the way Hansol shushes him as he does so makes Junghan’s heart skip a beat. He starts crying harder, half trying to breathe through his tears and half trying to get his breath back from his apnea.

“Don’t cry,” Hansol whispers, thumbing at the elder’s cheeks. “I’m here, it’s okay.”

“You can’t leave me,” Junghan whimpers, grabbing onto Hansol’s wrists because he isn’t wearing a shirt and there's nothing else for him to cling to. “You can’t leave me, I’ll die if I’m left on my own.”

Hansol sighs deeply, petting Junghan’s hair. He doesn’t say anything, just presses a kiss to the elders temple and pulls him against his chest.

 

Junghan wakes up at seven am sharp from his alarm. He blearily feels around his bedside table for it, finally hitting the snooze button when he finds it. Hansol shifts beside him, arms wrapped around the elder’s stomach and face pressed against his chest. Junghan sits up, prying Hansol off him and yawning widely. He rubs his eyes. His throat still hurts from last night’s episode, and he downs the rest of the glass of water Hansol had offered him earlier.

He spends the morning getting ready quietly, humming to himself. It’s still dreadfully hot, and he’s about to pull his hair up into a ponytail when Hansol’s words from last night ring in his mind- “ I like your hair down better ” - and he decides not to.

He can hear Hansol waking up by the time he’s ready to go. He leaves a sticky note on the fridge asking him to pick up toilet paper, but he knows the younger will forget anyway.

He arrives at Minghao’s apartment bright and early at eight am. Minghao lives in a penthouse downtown that always impresses Junghan no matter how often he visits. The sheer amount of alphas living in his building alone was enough to make Junghan’s head spin, and he wonders once again how Minghao can live as an omega among them and doesn’t just move back to the government sanctioned omega housing just outside of the city. Minghao brushes him off every time he asked, telling him he felt it was his responsibility to his previous alpha to continue living there.

He’s barely knocked twice when the front door flies open and Minghao stands there. His hair is sticking up in all directions, his phone between his cheek and his shoulder, speaking in very fast Mandarin into it, and the minute he opens the door he reaches out to give Chan to Junghan. Junghan takes the toddler into his arms, surprised, as Minghao sprints back into the apartment without another word.

Junghan closes the door behind him as he enters. Chan smiles up at him, eyes bright, and Junghan smiles back.

“What’s wrong with your daddy?” Junghan asks him, and Chan just puts his fingers in his mouth.

“Sorry,” Minghao says as he rounds the corner from his bedroom, tying his tie at the same time he tries to shove on his shoes. “My secretary just called me and said I have to come in early because the board of directors apparently wants to scrap our whole second quarter plan which means I’m already late.”

“You’re always working, I feel like a neglected housewife,” Junghan jokes, and Minghao rolls his eyes as he opens the front door.

He cooes something at Chan in Mandarin, and Chan giggles. Minghao smiles brilliantly, kisses the toddler on both cheeks. Junghan offers out his own cheek, grinning, and Minghao rolls his eyes again, pecking the elder on the cheek.

“Have a nice day at work, sweetie! Bring home that bacon!” Junghan sings as Minghao runs down the hall and steps into the elevator. Minghao flips him off just as the doors slide closed.

 

Like clockwork, Junghan spends the morning taking care of Chan, until 1:45 rolls around and he hears the tell tale click of the lock opening. Hansol strolls in, dumping his backpack on the carpet of the living room and sprawling down onto it face first.

Junghan comes out of the kitchen, Chan hoisted up on his hip, fast asleep and drooling on the rag Junghan had laid over his shoulder.

“Good afternoon, sunshine,” Junghan says, and Hansol just groans. Junghan steps over him and settles on the sofa, stretching his legs out in front of him and rearranging Chan in his arms.

Hansol rolls over so that he can face Junghan. His eyes soften when he sees the toddler in the elder's arms. "You look like his dad."

"Don't let Minghao hear you say that," Junghan warns. Hansol raises his head just slightly, peering down the hallway.

"He's not here though, right?"

Junghan shakes his head. "Good," Hansol grins. He clamors to his feet, moving to sit on the couch beside Junghan. He reaches out with both hands to tuck stray strands of hair behind Junghan’s ears (a gesture that makes the elder’s heart skip a few beats), then cups his face in his hands. He takes a moment to just look at Junghan, searching his eyes for something. Before Junghan can say anything, Hansol leans down to kiss him.

Junghan hopes the younger can’t hear the way his breath stutters, can’t feel the way his skin prickles and the hairs on the back of his neck stand up when they touch. Hansol sighs into the kiss, like he’d been waiting hours for it, and curls a hand into Junghan’s hair.

“My heats coming soon,” Hansol mumbles against his lips when they pull apart for air. He drags his mouth along Junghan’s cheek, bringing it lower to his neck so he can push away the hair covering it and press a kiss to the skin.

Junghan tilts his head back, humming in response. That would explain Hansol’s seemingly inexhaustible libido recently. “Did you call in a new prescription for your suppressants?”

Hansol curses suddenly, making Junghan jump, and Chan wake with a start, crying. Junghan shoots Hansol a glare, and he mumbles an apology.

“I totally forgot to call them in,” He groans, slumping down onto the couch and covering his face with his arm.

Junghan sighs as he tries to calm Chan, rocking him gently. “It’s too late to do it now, it takes a week to get the prescription through.”

Hansol curses again, and Junghan kicks him hard in the shin. “Stop swearing!”

“What am I gonna do?” Hansol wails, ignoring Junghan’s scolding. He sits up abruptly, giving Junghan a look the elder doesn’t like at all. “What dose do you-“

“No,” Junghan interrupts sharply. “Omegas aren’t supposed to share suppressants, you know that,” Hansol grumbles to himself, much like a child, crossing his arms and leaning back into the couch. “Besides, I take almost twice your dosage.”

“Are you trying to show off how much hornier you get than me?” Hansol demands. Junghan just rolls his eyes, turning his attention back to Chan and listening to Hansol complain for the next few minutes.

 

Minghao comes home a few hours later, slamming open the front door and kicking off his shoes with a heavy sigh. Junghan is sitting on the living room floor with Chan, holding his hands as the toddler attempts to walk on two feet, while Hansol sits on the couch, textbook and papers spread out next to him, scribbling something down. All three of them look up when Minghao enters the room, and Chan's face lights up when he sees his father. Minghao immediately grins, dropping to his knees despite his Valentino suit that probably cost more than Junghan and Hansol made in a month combined, so he could scoop the toddler into his arms.

"Welcome home, daddy," Junghan jokes, and Minghao gives him a look as Chan starts tugging at his father's cheeks, laughing wildly.

"How was he?"

"He was an angel, as per usual."

"He peed on my sweatshirt when Junghan changed him," Hansol grumbled from the couch, and Minghao lets out a bark of laughter.

"You're such a smart boy," Minghao coos at Chan, who just smiles in response. Minghao sets Chan down on the ground so he can get off his knees and sit cross legged beside Junghan. "You coming to dinner with us tonight?"

Junghan raises an eyebrow. "Who's us?"

"Me, Hansol, Jihoon and Seokmin, a few others," Minghao trails off, smiling at Hansol on the couch. Junghan gives them both a suspicious look.

"Who are the others?" He demands.

"Just some people from my work," Minghao grins. "Tell me you'll come."

Junghan purses his lips, giving Hansol a knowing look. "Would you stop bothering Minghao to find you an alpha? He's got other things to do."

"I didn't ask!" Hansol says, looking flustered. "He told me he wanted to introduce me to someone!"

On the ground, Chan climbs into Junghan's lap, laughing as he starts tugging the elders hair. Junghan lets him because it doesn't really hurt, but Minghao pulls him back, murmuring something in Mandarin in a scolding tone.

"You're coming," Minghao says with finality. "Seokmin misses you and you know if he complains about it too much Jihoon will drag you by the hair to hang out with him."

Junghan groans into his hands. "I don't have anything to wear."

"Please, you offend me. Do you forget who I am?" Minghao gets to his feet, Chan on his hip, straightening his tie. "Let's go look in my closet."

 

An hour and six suits later, Junghan finds himself dressed in one of Minghao's own that feels and looks so expensive he's scared to move and wrinkle it the wrong way. Hansol, on the other hand, is parading around in the grey Gucci suit the elder had dressed him in, showing off for Chan who's sitting on Minghao's bed and looking at Hansol with big, curious eyes.

Minghao himself is still wearing his suit from work, and currently digging through a case of what had to be over a hundred ties, trying to pick on out for Junghan.

"Don't you think this is," Junghan swallows, tugging at his suit jacket. "Too much?"

"It's an expensive restaurant," Minghao says without looking up. "Plus, I want to impress my co-workers with how handsome my friends are," He looks up at this and winks. Junghan just rolls his eyes. "Try this Bvlgari one on, it'll bring out your eyes."

Junghan doesn't know how a tie is supposed to bring out his eyes, but he lets Minghao loop it around his neck and tie it. He lets Hansol take his hand and follow them both out of the apartment and down the elevator to the valet, lets Hansol push him into the backseat of Minghao's expensive Mercedes. It's only when they're on the road, Minghao and Hansol chatting in the front seat, and Junghan surrounded by the scent of plush leather and that clean, new car scent, that he feels anxiety build up in his chest. He wants to go home. He doesn't want to watch Hansol flirt with a stranger, he doesn't want to watch Minghao try to push Hansol to other alphas. He wants to go home and curl under the sheets with Hansol and let the younger press kisses against his neck and play with his hair. He hates going out with Hansol and Minghao because of that exact reason; that Hansol is looking for someone else to go home with, permanently.

They arrive at the restaurant and Junghan's door is promptly opened by a valet. Minghao doesn't seem phased by it, but Hansol looks giddy as they get out and stroll through the front door. Junghan lingers a few steps behind them, watching the way the dim light inside the restaurant catches Hansol's hair and makes him look other-wordly.

They're escorted to a table near the back, and as they approach Junghan can spot Jihoon and Seokmin already there, as well as two other men he doesn't recognize. Minghao waves to them, so he assumes they must be his co-workers.

"Junghan!" Seokmin almost shouts when he spots the elder. He hurries out of his seat so he can pull him into a bone-crushing hug. Junghan smiles warily over Seokmin's shoulder at Jihoon, who gives him a small smile in return. Jihoon may be his friend, but Junghan had never met an alpha so territorial over their omega, and he didn't ever want to get on Jihoon's bad side.

Once Seokmin has let go, Junghan slides into the seat beside Minghao. Hansol has already sat down beside one of Minghao's co-workers, a pretty, feminine boy with caramel hair and a nice smile. Junghan tries not to let his face twist as he watches them introduce themselves.

"Junghan, this is Jisoo," Minghao says. The pretty boy next to Hansol smiles at him, and Junghan tries to smile back. "And Seungcheol."

Seungcheol sits directly across from Junghan. He looks a bit older then all of them, with dark hair and a face that would be intimidating if he wasn't smiling brilliantly at the younger.

"Hi, Junghan," Seungcheol says cheerily, and Junghan mumbles a, "Hello," in response.

"Junghan isn't very sociable," Minghao jokes. Jisoo laughs, and Hansol laughs too, but Junghan knows from the pitch of it that it's his fake laugh he uses when he's trying to pick someone up. He scowls at his empty plate.

"How's Chan?" Jihoon suddenly says, and Minghao immediately launches into stories about his son.

"Are you uncomfortable?" Seungcheol asks quietly, and it takes Junghan a moment to realize he's talking to him.

"Just tired," He lies, and the look the elder gives him tells him he knows it's a lie. He doesn't push it, though, and Junghan's grateful.

The night passes slowly, time ticking by as Junghan alternates between listening to Minghao chatter on to Jihoon and Seokmin, watching Hansol and Jisoo flirt heavily with each other to the point he could feel the sexual tension at the table, and giving short, one worded answers to Seungcheol's many small talk questions. He feels a bit bad, like he's boring the elder, and he vaguely wonders if Minghao had invited Seungcheol so Junghan would have someone as well.

"Are you an alpha?" Junghan suddenly says, and Seungcheol looks up from his steak in surprise. Normally Junghan would be able to smell if he was one, but the restaurant was full of scents that clogged up his nose. He could barely smell the wine that was sat right in front of him.

"Beta," Seungcheol admits. Junghan frowns.

"Is Jisoo a beta?"

Seungcheol shakes his head. "Alpha. Why do you ask?"

"Minghao's always trying to set Hansol up with-" Junghan is cut off as Seungcheol suddenly shoots up from his seat, knees accidentally knocking the table and causing everyone's plates to shift.

"Sir," Seungcheol says, eyes wide as he looks at someone behind Junghan. "What are you doing here?"

Minghao and Jisoo suddenly get to their feet as quickly as Seungcheol had as well, bowing.

"What do you mean, what am I doing here?" A sly voice answers. "I'm getting dinner."

Junghan turns around. A man stands before them, black hair swept back, tan skin glowing, wearing a pinstripe suit and shoes that probably cost more than Junghan's apartment. Definitely alpha, and maybe just a bit younger than himself. Even from three seats away, he can hear Hansol salivating at this newcomer. Junghan rubs his forehead, looking down at the floor. He wants to go home.

"Of course, sir," Seungcheol stutters.

"Minghao, where's your son?" The man asks, and Minghao swallows before speaking.

"He's at home with my neighbor, sir," Minghao answers.

"Oh, too bad," The man replies. "I wanted to meet him," He glances at each person at the table, and when his eyes land on Junghan he pauses for a second. Junghan stares back at him, hand still on his forehead, temples throbbing. He waits for the man to say something, but he just looks at him. It's just getting to the point where it's uncomfortable when a hostess appears beside the man, bowing and whispering something in his ear. He nods, eyes still on Junghan, and only looks away when she's gone.

"Well, gentlemen, it was nice seeing you but it appears my date has finally arrived," He smiles at them all, nodding at Seungcheol. "Don't forget the meeting tomorrow."

Seungcheol nods vigorously and bows. Minghao and Jisoo bow as well as he leaves, waving to them.

Once he's gone, all three of them sit down, audibly sighing.

"Who was that?" Seokmin asks excitedly, leaning in. Junghan notices Jihoon still staring after the man, eyes narrowed, and his hand on Seokmin's thigh, a silent reminder of ownership.

"That was the CEO of our company," Seungcheol replies, sounding exhausted from the three minute interaction. He's looking at Junghan curiously. "Do you know him?"

Before he can answer, Hansol joins in, "He looked like a weirdo. Why was he staring at Junghan?"

"He's single, you know," Minghao says suddenly, wiggling his eyebrows at Junghan. Junghan just rolls his eyes and takes a long sip of his wine, and wishes even more so that this night would just be over already.

 

Hansol doesn't come home with him. He drinks one too many vodka soda's and clings to Jisoo's sleeve, whines when Minghao and Seungcheol finally finish arguing over who'll pay the check and they all begin standing to leave. Jisoo looks a little too drunk as well, cheeks flushed, eyes bright as he coos at the younger omega on his arm. Minghao laughs and helps usher them to Jisoo's car, Jisoo's driver holding the back door open for them both to stumble into. The door closes just as Hansol climbs into Jisoo's lap, and Junghan tries to look away but he sees it anyway. He watches the sleek black car drive off, only half listening to Jihoon and Seokmin wish him goodbye. The valet brings Seungcheol's car around, and he gives Junghan a little hug before leaving.

"Have a nice night, Junghan," He says softly, and there's something in his eyes that looks like pity and makes Junghan's chest ache. He nods in response, hugging him back.

Minghao's own car is brought around, and Junghan slides into the passenger seat, not entirely there. He was still replaying Hansol crawling into Jisoo's lap, the same way the younger had done to Junghan hundreds of times. It made the ache in his chest hollow out and reach the bottom of his stomach, and suddenly he feels sick.

Minghao turns on the radio as they drive. He rolls down the windows instead of turning on the AC, so Junghan takes his hair down and lets it fly in his face. The city is lit up, alive and thrumming despite the late hour, but Junghan wishes it was quiet.

"Do you wanna sleep at my place tonight?" Minghao asks gently when they stop at a red light, and when Junghan turns Minghao is watching him carefully.

He wants to ask why he's looking at him like that, but instead all that comes out is, "Do you miss Junhui?"

Minghao presses his lips together, face twitching just slightly. He turns back to look at the road, the light changing color and illuminating the curves of his face. "Yeah. All the time."

"What do you miss most about him?"

Junghan can see the way the younger's lips are starting to twist downwards, like he's about to cry, but he can't stop the words. Deep down, he thinks he just wants to know there's someone out there who is just as fucked up as he is when it comes to love.

"Can we... not talk about him?" Minghao whispers. "I don't like thinking about him."

Junghan nods, mumbling, "Sorry." They fall into silence again, and Junghan tries not to look at Minghao when he hears the younger sniffle pathetically, instead resting his cheek on the windowsill and looking at his own reflection in the side mirror.

"Can I still stay at your place?" Junghan asks himself, hair whipping into his face as they merge onto the highway, and he hears Minghao murmur, "Yeah" in response over the roar of the cars' engines.

 

They're greeted by a beta around Hansol's age, with cheeks still clinging to baby fat and big, bright eyes at Minghao's door.

"Hi, Seungkwan," Minghao says. "How's Chan?"

"He's asleep," The boy, Seungkwan, replies, stepping aside to let the two elder boys walk in. Junghan puts two and two together and assumes this is Minghao's neighbor. "He knocked out an hour after I came over."

Minghao smiles at him. "Thanks for coming over on such short notice."

"It's no problem!" Seungkwan flashes a smile at the elder, eyes darting to Junghan quickly and then away again. "I love spending time with him."

"This is Junghan," Minghao says suddenly, gesturing towards the elder. Junghan nods at the beta, who bows at him in response. "He's an old friend of mine."

"Nice to meet you," Seungkwan greets happily, and Junghan tries to muster up a smile as well, but his bones feel heavy and tired and the ache in his chest hasn't gone away.

Minghao follows Seungkwan into the kitchen, saying something about paying him. Junghan stays behind until he's out of their sight and turns down the hallway towards Minghao's bedroom.

Chan's crib is in the corner beside his dresser. The toddler's crib mobile rotates slowly above it, creaking with each turn. Junghan pads over and peeks in; Chan is sound asleep, face peaceful, tiny hands curled into the soft blanket under him.

On the dresser, facing the crib, was a solitary picture frame. It's got a thin layer of dust over it, like it hadn't been moved in a while. Junghan turns it towards him, and isn't surprised to find it's a picture of Junhui with Chan. He'd only met the alpha two times, once at Minghao's birthday dinner and once at their wedding. Junghan didn't even know much about him, only that he was older then Minghao, Chinese as well, and a quiet person. He was handsome- in the picture he wears a thick sweater and glasses, hair pushed back, smiling brilliantly at his son as a bundled up Chan, only a few months old, holds a solitary brown leaf in his small hand and laughs at it. It looked to be from the beginning of the previous autumn, and Junghan feels a slight twinge of sadness when he realizes this picture was probably taken just before he died.

The lights in the room flicker on then, and Junghan turns around to see Minghao enter the room, heading for the dresser.

"I think I have pajamas you can borrow," Minghao says. His voice sounds strained, and there are dark bags under his eyes that Junghan didn't notice in the dim light of the restaurant earlier. Junghan thanks him as he hands him a shirt and boxers, and they both get ready in silence, the only noise the cars outside and Chan's soft breathing.

When they're both laying in Minghao's bed, the darkness only tinted by the light from the city creeping in through the blinds, Minghao speaks.

"His laugh."

"His laugh?"

"I miss his laugh," Minghao takes a deep, shaky breath, his voice wavering as he continues. "He had the stupidest laugh, it was so loud and obnoxious, but whenever I heard it I felt like everything was gonna be okay."

Junghan stays silent, nodding despite knowing the younger couldn't see it.

"And his smile. God, his smile was so nice, Junghan, it was like I was looking at the sun head on. He was always smiling," Minghao's voice breaks suddenly, and he has to take another breath. Junghan thinks he's crying now. "The smile he used to have whenever he was holding Chan. He loved him so much, I could see it in his eyes."

"He loved you too," Junghan whispers, and Minghao’s definitely crying now. Junghan can see the outline of his hands reaching up to wipe at his eyes. "I'm sure he's smiling wherever he is now."

“What am I supposed to tell Chan when he grows up? That his father couldn’t find the will to live anymore? That he’d rather take a whole bottle of sleeping pills than live with us anymore?”

“You know that’s not true. It wasn’t your fault,” Junghan says sharply.

“How else am I supposed to explain it?”

Junghan doesn’t answer. He’s not sure how to answer, so instead he scoots closer to the younger and lets him cry against his chest, his whole body trembling.

 

Junghan wakes up to the sounds of pots clanging in the kitchen, and the sizzling smell of bacon. The bed beside him is empty, as is Chan’s crib, so he takes a few moments to stretch before getting up and heading down the hall.

Minghao is in front of the stove, Chan perched on his shoulders, hands fisted in his father’s hair as Minghao sings to the toddler in Mandarin. Junghan leans against the wall and smiles at the scene until the younger turns around and spots him.

“Good morning,” Minghao greets him cheerily, wincing as Chan pulls his hair a little too hard. Junghan laughs and steps forward to lift the toddler off his shoulders. Chan pulls his hair as he goes, laughing heartily.

“He’s always so hyper early in the morning,” Junghan observes, grinning down at him. Chan scrunches up his nose and smiles back at him.

“It’s exhausting,” Minghao complains, but Junghan catches the way he looks at Chan with a fondness even the elder can’t comprehend. “Are you staying for breakfast?”

“I should get home,” Junghan says, squatting down so he can set Chan on the floor and let him crawl across the linoleum. “I need to, um, shower.”

Minghao is silent for a moment, and Junghan doesn’t look up, hoping the younger will just let it be. He’s well aware there’s not one, but three perfectly functioning showers in Minghao’s apartment. But Hansol’s not there, and that’s the real reason he wants to get home.

Finally, Minghao just coughs, albeit a bit awkwardly  “Alright. We’ll see you Thursday morning, right?”

“Right,” Junghan nods. He waves at Chan as he raises to his feet, and the toddler flops his hand around in the air in response. Close enough.

It takes him a few minutes to find his clothes from yesterday; not Minghao’s expensive suit, but his real clothes, along with Hansol’s sweatshirt that Chan had peed on. He snorts as he remembers yesterday, and shoves it into his backpack to take home and wash.

As he’s heading out the front door, he thinks he hears Minghao slip into Cantonese as he coos at Chan. Junghan had only ever heard Junhui speak Cantonese, and he vaguely wonders when Minghao learned it.

 

The front door to their apartment is propped open with a large brown box, the hallway littered with similar ones of different sizes, and that’s the first indication that something’s wrong. Junghan bites the inside of his cheek as he steps over the threshold and slips off his shoes. He can hear Hansol’s voice in his room, along with another voice, deeper, with the pitch of an alpha. Junghan squeezes his eyes shut. He hadn’t wanted to think about this last night, or this morning, had pushed it to the back of his mind because there hadn’t been any proof that it would happen, but now the evidence is staring him in the face, and he feels a bit sick.

The voices sound closer, along with footsteps, that halt just in front of him. He opens his eyes and Hansol’s standing there, a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, along with Jisoo, who’s carrying a large brown box, the top open to reveal a few books and the aloe plant Hansol keeps on their bedroom window sill. Hansol looks guilty, like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t, which is ridiculous. This was normal. This was to be expected, Junghan should’ve prepared for it, but he’d blocked the idea out so much that it was only ever a fleeting thought every once in awhile.

“I was going to call you,” Hansol whispers, too quietly, like he’s worried the neighbors can hear and are listening to them. “I thought you were spending the day with Minghao.”

“I wanted to come and take a shower,” Junghan replies, voice robotic, monotone. He meets Jisoo's gaze, and the alpha has his lips pursed, regarding him with something akin to pity, similar to the look Seungcheol had given him last night. He clears his throat, hitching the box higher in his arms.

“I’m going to take these downstairs,” He announces, and begins picking his way around the boxes towards the door. Junghan has to shift aside to let him pass, and when he moves his whole body feels like it’s made of lead.

The silence that follows is heavy, so heavy Junghan feels like his ears are ringing the longer it stretches. It makes him feel like he can’t breathe. Finally, Hansol speaks.

“I was going to call you,” He repeats. He’s not looking at Junghan. He’s looking down at the floor, lips pressed together into a tight line. “Jisoo asked to be my alpha,” He mumbles, and Junghan laughs, dull and too loud in the half empty apartment now that all of Hansol’s things were packed away in cardboard boxes.

“So, that’s it then?” Junghan asks, and now that they’re alone he can’t stop smiling. He thinks it’s a defensive mechanism he adopted when he was younger, smiling when he’s nervous, but he can’t overthink it now, as he stands grinning ironically at the younger, voice cracking as he says, “You’re just leaving me?”

Hansol shifts uncomfortably from one foot to the other, playing with the strap of his duffel bag, eyes glued to the floor. His bottom lip trembles like he’s about to cry, and, _God_ , Junghan wishes he could hate him right now. He wishes he could yell and scream but he can’t. Because this is normal, and this is expected, and Junghan should’ve prepared for it. Omega’s don’t end up together. Happy endings only work for them if it’s with an alpha.

“You’ll find someone, too,” Hansol breathes out, and Junghan can see how much his eyes are watering when he finally looks up to meet Junghan’s gaze. Junghan’s heart twists tightly in his chest, and he takes a deep breath. “This is how it’s supposed to be, Junghan.”

Junghan’s tongue feels heavy in his mouth as he mutters, “I thought you loved me.”

“I do love you.”

It hangs there in the air, between them. There’s nothing else to say, and they just stare at each other, both sporting almost vacant looks as they try to articulate their own thoughts into words.

“You’ll find someone, too,” Hansol repeats again, and he takes a step forward. Junghan’s heart pitches into his stomach as he realizes this is it, this is the moment he’s been fearing ever since Hansol started going out on weekends and coming home reeking of tequila and complaining about how none of the alpha’s he met suited his taste. The moment he’s been hiding deep in his thoughts, the conversation he never wanted to have, the experience he never wanted. He squeezes his eyes shut again, and he can feel his heartbeat picking up, his breathing doubling like he was about to hyperventilate.

“I’ll die without you,” He says through gritted teeth. When he opens his eyes, Hansol isn’t in front of him anymore. He turns too quickly, swaying slightly from the headrush, to find Hansol now standing in the doorway, another of those damned brown boxes in his arms, the one that had been holding the door open. He bites his lip, staring at Junghan with that look, that fucking look that everyone kept giving him like he was the most pathetic thing on earth they’d ever laid their eyes on.

“Don’t be dramatic, Junghan,” Hansol finally says, and then he’s slamming the door shut behind him.

Junghan doesn’t know how long he stands there, but his knees start to get weak and he ends up just falling to the floor, sitting there and dumbly staring at the door. His mind feels blank, like an empty piece of paper. He can’t focus on a single thought, his body too heavy, his heart beating too fast in his chest. It’s only when the door opens again that his brain flickers back to life, hope streaking through his chest as he raises his head, thinking it’s Hansol.

It’s not. It’s Jisoo. The alpha looms over him in his black slacks and white button down, sleeves rolled up, hair slicked back neatly. He stares down at Junghan with that same look, and then, with a sigh and an almost feline fluidity, drops down to a squat in front of him.

“Junghan,” He begins, and Junghan glares at him, daring him to say anything else. What could he say? What does he possibly know about what Junghan was feeling at this moment?

Instead of continuing, Jisoo reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a folded piece of paper. He gently grabs Junghan’s wrist, lifting his hand so he could press the paper into his palm.

“I was told to give this to you,” He says, quietly, and as their hands touch his eyes soften considerably, the pity giving way to something similar to empathy. He keeps his hand there for a few seconds extra, and then he pulls away, rising to his feet with that same grace from before. He bends down to pick up the last of the boxes, stacking them in his arms until he can rest his chin on the top one.

“I’ll tell him to call you,” He murmurs, and then he too is out the door, the slam of the wood not as heavy or hitting Junghan quite as hard as when Hansol had done the same.

 

When Junghan finally finds it in himself to get to his feet, he still hasn’t cried. When he finds Hansol’s key on the dresser, he still doesn’t cry. When he sees only his singular toothbrush in the bathroom or the absence of two extra pillows on their (his) bed, he still doesn’t cry.

When he walks into the kitchen and finds a six pack of toilet paper on the counter, along with the post it note he’d left on the fridge for Hansol yesterday morning, he finally cries.

 

The days pass like a blur. Junghan eats, and he sleeps, and he showers, but things feel different, and painfully empty. On Wednesday night, he wakes up at four am choking, coughing violently. His hands scramble to the bed behind him, searching for a comforting warmth, and instead he finds empty sheets. He ends up coughing for ten minutes until he can find it in himself to get up for a glass of water. His cheeks are smeared with tears from the attack, and he pulls his hair up into a ponytail, trying to swallow the lump in his throat that came from something else entirely.

 

Thursday morning he drags himself out of bed, bleary eyed and heart still in his stomach, to head to Minghao’s. He stumbles getting on the subway, and he almost walks straight into an alpha as he’s rounding the corner to Minghao’s building. The man snaps at him to watch where he’s going, and he just nods in response, unfocused.

His knock sounds lifeless even to him when he reaches Minghao’s apartment. The door opens after a few seconds, and Minghao stands there, still dressed in his pajamas, worry lines creasing his brow.

“Where’s Chan?” Junghan asks as Minghao pulls him inside and shuts the door.

“He’s at Seungkwan’s,” Minghao says, waving his hand dismissively. “I wanted to talk to you and see how you were doing.”

Junghan rolls his eyes. “Don’t you have work?”

“Work can wait,” Minghao sits down on the couch, patting the cushion beside him. Junghan frowns but sits as well, curling into himself and pulling his knees to his chest.

Minghao stares at him in silence like he’s watching an exotic animal, and finally Junghan whips his head to look at him, glaring. “What?” He snaps.

“Are you okay?” Minghao asks. “Have you been eating? Are you sleeping well?” He picks up Junghan’s wrist between his fingers. “You look thin. Are you wearing the same outfit from Monday?”

Junghan pulls back his hand defensively, pulling it to his chest and frowning deeper. “No,” He mumbles. “Just the same pants.”

Minghao looks him up and down, and then makes a face to mirror Junghan’s. “Is that Hansol’s sweatshirt?”

Junghan looks down. It was, indeed, Hansol’s sweatshirt, the tan one that Chan had peed on the other day. Junghan had washed it after Hansol and Jisoo had left, and he’d been wearing it for the past two days. Or maybe three. He can’t remember what day it is.

“No,” He whispers lamely, and Minghao sighs, rubbing his forehead.

“This is how it’s supposed to be,” Minghao says softly, and Hansol’s same words ring through his head. _This is how it’s supposed to be_. Find an alpha, be their omega, have a happy ending. Omega’s don’t end up together.

“I don’t want it to be like that,” Junghan mumbles, feeling just a bit pathetic. Minghao stays silent, and Junghan knows it’s because he can’t think of a response. He shoves his hands into his jeans pockets, trying to stop the wobble in his lips.

Something brushes his fingers, and he frowns again. He fishes the item out of his pocket, and it’s a piece of paper. The paper Jisoo had given him.

“What’s this?” Minghao asks, pinching the paper between his thumb and forefinger and prying it from Junghan’s hand. He begins unfolding it.

“Jisoo gave it to me,” Junghan says hollowly, and Minghao raises a brow at him. “He said he was told to give it to me.”

Minghao opens it fully, and as he scans it his other brow raises as well, looking surprised.

“He was told to give it to you?” Minghao repeats, still staring at the paper.

“Yeah,” Junghan leans forward and plucks the paper from him. All he finds is a phone number, along with _Kim Mingyu x_ scribbled in neat handwriting he can’t recognize above it. “Who’s Mingyu?”

“He, uh, works with Jisoo and I,” Minghao explains, still staring at the paper. A smile is starting to curl his lips, his eyes twinkling. “I guess Jisoo wants to hook you two up.”

Junghan groans. “No, thank you. Now is not the time for some alpha to try and woo me with his law degree and expensive watches.”

“It worked for Hansol,” Minghao laughs, and then his face blanks out when he realizes what he said. “Sorry, I didn’t mean-”

“It’s fine,” Junghan grumbles. “Just tell that Mingyu kid I’m not interested next time you see him.”

Minghao purses his lips. “Why don’t you tell him?”

“What?”

“Come to work with me, I’ll introduce you to him.”

Junghan snorts. “Yeah, that’s gonna happen.”

“I mean it,” Minghao gets to his feet, the couch cushion bouncing as he jumps up. “At least call him, then. He’s a really great guy, Junghan, and you need that right now.”

“I said now wasn’t the time,” Junghan repeats, but his voice falters at the end at the disapproving look the younger shoots at him.

“Call him,” Minghao says firmly. “Do it for me,” He pushes the piece of paper into Junghan’s hands, closing his fingers over it. “I’m gonna go get ready for work. Call him.”

Junghan tries to protest, but Minghao’s already heading towards his room, and the elder is left in silence, staring out the ceiling to floor windows across from him and scrunching the piece of paper in his hand.

It’s only when he hears the shower head turn on and the bathroom door lock click that he pulls out his phone. He has to wait for it to turn on; he’d turned it off the night Hansol had left, more for himself because he didn’t think he’d be able to resist calling the younger if he woke up at 3 am from a dream about him.

The phone lights up when it’s finally on, and after a few seconds, the updates come in. He has multiple texts and calls from Minghao asking if he’s okay, two missed calls from Seokmin and a voicemail from Jihoon, and one, singular text from Hansol that simply reads “ _sorry_.”

He stares at it for a long time, so long he doesn’t snap out of it until he hears the shower head turn off and the bathroom door open, and Minghao pads back into the living room, a towel around his waist and his wet hair dripping down his face.

“Did you call him?” Minghao asks, pushing his bangs out of his face. Junghan shakes his head slowly. His blood is starting to boil under his skin, anger simmering in the pit of his stomach and replacing the gaping hole that he felt had been residing there the past few days. It bubbles up between his ribs, through his chest and searing directly through his heart, until it reaches his hands, and they shake as he punches Mingyu’s scribbled number into his phone. He raises the phone to his ear, still shaking, and meets Minghao’s surprised look.

After a few rings, someone picks up.

“Hello?” A deep voice rings through the speaker, raw and bleary, like the owner had just woken up. Junghan checks his phone. It was almost eleven in the morning.

“Hi, is this… Mingyu?” He asks hesitantly. Minghao stands frozen in place, looking half ecstatic, half stunned at Junghan’s sudden boldness.

There’s a pause on the other end, and then he clears his throat. “Yeah. Who’s this?”

“It’s, uh, Junghan. You asked Jisoo to give me your number?”

Another pause. Junghan can practically hear it when it clicks in the other man's head. “Ah, Junghan! How are you?”

Junghan frowns. “Uh, I’m good. Did I wake you up?”

Mingyu laughs. “Yeah, uh, I had a long night last night. Got home really late,” Junghan hears him shifting, the creak of bedsprings as he gets to his feet. Long night? Minghao had said he works with this person. Junghan doesn’t think lawyers should be out late and waking up at eleven am.

“Well, I was wondering if you wanted to,” Junghan bites the inside of his cheek, looking up at Minghao again. The younger opens his eyes wide, motioning for him to continue. “If you wanted to… get coffee with me or something.”

A beat of silence, and then, “That sounds nice. I’m free now, if you are.”

Junghan raises his brows, repeating, “Right now?”. Minghao starts nodding vigorously. Junghan mouths “ _No way_ ” at him, but Minghao starts moving towards him, and he knows the younger will take the phone if he doesn’t answer soon. “Yeah, that’s fine. Do you know Coffee Culture on 8th street?”

Minghao shoots him a pointed look as Mingyu replies, “No, but I’m sure I can find it. I’ll see you there in half an hour?”

“Okay, nice. See you soon.”

“See you soon, Junghan.”

The moment Junghan hangs up Minghao is on the couch beside him, bouncing with excitement.

“Seriously? Coffee Culture? You’re so unclassy, man, you could’ve gotten him to take you to a nice dinner.”

Junghan glares at him. “You told me you worked with him. Why was he just waking up now?”

Minghao shrugs. “He works weird hours. Who cares, though? We have to get you something to wear.”

“No,” Junghan says firmly, getting to his feet and ignoring the disappointed pout Minghao gives him.  “I told you, now’s not the best time for me to date someone. I’m only doing this for you.”

The younger sighs, slumping back in the cushions. “Fine, go looking like a hobo. I’m sure he’s into that. Didn’t Chan pee on that sweater?”

Junghan flips him off and goes to retrieve his bag from the floor. He pulls his hair up into a high ponytail (Hansol’s voice rings in his head once more, just last Sunday when he had said he likes his hair down better. It makes the anger spark up in his chest again, and he tightens the ponytail with mores strength than he should, wincing when it pinches at his scalp), and heads for the door.

“Good luck!” Minghao calls after him. Junghan just hums in response and closes the door softly behind him.

 

Briefly, as he waits for the signal to cross the street where Coffee Culture is, he thinks about just going back home and telling Minghao he met Mingyu and wasn’t interested. But that thought is shot down when he remembers Minghao works with the other, and knowing the younger he’d no doubt go straight to Mingyu for details if Junghan didn’t give him enough.

The light turns, and he’s halfway across the street when he hears the roar of a car's engine. One of those expensive, obnoxious, look-at-me-I-have-so-much-money-to-spend-on-cars engines. It’s a white Ferrari, speeding straight towards him. He almost jumps out of the way for a panicked second, thinking it was going to hit him, but it pulls smoothly to a stop just outside the coffee shop, just an inch from the curb. A few people nearby stare openly, and someone whistles.

The driver's door opens and out steps a man in a navy blue suit and sunglasses, hair slicked back and tan skin practically glowing in the morning light. He looks a bit familiar as he locks his car and looks around, eyeing the coffee shop sign, before he spots Junghan dumbly standing on the curb, watching him. The man grins, revealing abnormally sharp canines, and as he starts heading towards Junghan, that’s when he suddenly realizes who it is. Minghao’s boss, the CEO of his company who had greeted them during dinner the other night and left Minghao and his co-workers jittery and on edge at his mere presence.

“Junghan, right?” The man smiles, taking off his sunglasses. HIs eyes are almost as sharp as his teeth, dark and staring right through Junghan. Junghan bites his tongue. The restaurant had been dim, but out here in the daylight, it was blatantly obvious how handsome he was. Junghan feels a bit like the other boys had at dinner as he nervously nods.

“Nice to see you again,” Junghan mumbles. “What are you doing here?”

He raises a brow at him, looking amused. “You told me to meet you here.”

Junghan frowns. “What?”

“Coffee Culture, right?” The man raises his jacket sleeve to check his watch. “I’m a little early, but so are you, so it’s fine.”

It takes Junghan a long moment to process exactly what he was saying, and when he finally does he almost suffocates on his own spit.

“You’re Mingyu?” He chokes out, and _Mingyu_ laughs, just like he had on the phone.

“Expecting someone else?” He grins, and Junghan wants to die. Minghao’s fucking _boss_ was the one who had asked Jisoo to give Junghan his number. The fucking _CEO._ This must be some sick joke on him. He can feel his ears turning red with embarrassment.

“No, I just,” Junghan struggles to find the right words, swallowing before he can speak. “Why did you give your number to Jisoo for me?”

Mingyu raises brow, still smiling a little. “What do you mean? I wanted to ask you out.”

“Me? Are you sure?”

“Why wouldn’t I be sure?”

“Have you seen me?” Junghan looks himself up and down. His jeans have an unidentifiable stain on them (he thinks it's Sriracha sauce), and, yes, even though it had been washed, Hansol’s sweater had been peed on just a few days earlier. His sneakers were tearing and he was pretty sure he was wearing two different color socks.

Mingyu, on the other hand, looked like he had just walked out of an Armani catalogue, complete with shiny black shoes and a smart looking striped tie, and now that Junghan looked, a fucking Rolex watch.

“You look cute,” Mingyu says unabashedly, making Junghan flush. His smile falters slightly, and he purses his lips. “Do I make you uncomfortable?”

Junghan shakes his head. “It’s not that. I’m just,” He laughs hollowly. “I’m surprised you wanted to ask me out.”

“Why?” Mingyu looks genuinely puzzled.

“Have you seen me?” Junghan repeats, gesturing to his outfit. “Have you seen you?”

Mingyu looks himself up and down. “I had a business dinner last night and didn’t have a chance to change because I was too tired,” He confesses. “I’m sorry I look too formal.”

Junghan bites the inside of his cheek again. He feels a little stupid. He looks between the coffee shop, bustling with people, to Mingyu’s Ferrari, parked a few feet away, with people still eyeing it as they pass. He even sees a man snap a picture of it before hurrying away.

“I don’t understand,” He says blankly. “What made you like me?”

Mingyu is silent, just staring at Junghan to the point the elder feels slightly uncomfortable. Finally, he reaches out to gently tuck the hair that had slipped out of Junghan’s ponytail behind his ear. His fingertips brush the crest of his ear as he does it (Junghan does not feel a little hitch in his chest at the touch, and he definitely does not think about how Hansol used to do that to him a second later), and then he lets his hand fall limply to his side.

“I want to be your alpha,” Mingyu says simply.

It takes a moment for Junghan to understand his words, but when he does his heart drops to his stomach like lead, then bounces back up into his throat within a span of seconds. He can feel his blood turn cold in his veins, and his knees go weak before he realizes it, the ground suddenly rushing up to him and his vision going blurry before it goes completely black.

 

He finds himself in an unfamiliar car when he opens his eyes, still dizzy. He has to blink a few times to focus his vision, and when he does he sees Mingyu beside him in the driver's seat. After a few seconds, he concludes this must be his Ferrari.

“Did I just pass out?” Junghan groans, and he can feel how red his face is getting.

Mingyu doesn’t look up from the road, but his hand twitches on the stick shift, like he wants to reach out and touch the elder. Junghan notices it, but doesn't say anything. “Only for a bit. I was going to take you to the emergency room.”

“You don’t need to do that,” Junghan mumbles. “I’ll be fine.”

“Do you faint often?” The younger sounds like he’s trying to control his voice, but there’s a hint of worry in it. Junghan can’t help but feel touched.

“No. I think you just shocked me.”

Mingyu breathes a sigh of relief through his nose, lips pressed together. “I’m sorry,” He says after a beat.

“It’s alright,” Junghan replies. “You can just take me back to Minghao’s place.”

“You don’t want to go home?” Mingyu raises a brow.

“I live pretty far. I don’t want to be a burden,” Junghan rushes out.

“It’s no trouble.”

“I’m sure you have work, it’s okay.”

Mingyu snorts. “I own the company. I can skip a day if I feel like it. But I’ll take you to Minghao’s if you feel more comfortable there.”

Junghan doesn’t have a response for that, so he stays quiet. The radio is playing softly from the speakers, the AC on full blast. Junghan mulls over Mingyu’s words earlier, wondering if maybe he had misheard it. He wants to be his alpha. It’s not something almost-strangers say to each other often. It means a lot, and it’s a heavy, life changing question. Junghan feels dizzy thinking about it again.

“Why do you want to be my alpha?” He whispers, and his stomach does a backflip when Mingyu takes his eyes off the road for a moment to glance at the elder, eyes darker than before.

“Instinct,” He says. Junghan frowns.

“What does that mean?”

Mingyu looks back at the road. His profile is nice, his nose curving gently and his cheekbones high and his jaw strong and visible. The longer Junghan looks at him, the more attractive he gets, and Junghan feels a twist in his gut when he wonders again why someone like this would ever like him.

“I saw you the other night, and it felt like everything stopped,” Mingyu eventually says, slowly, like he’s thinking carefully about each word. “I’ve never felt that way before, and I just knew. I want to be your alpha.”

“You only saw me for five minutes.”

“That’s all I needed.”

Junghan’s heart leaps in his chest again. His ponytail is starting to give him a headache, and he pulls it down, shaking his hair out and rubbing his scalp. He notices Mingyu staring when they stop at a red light.

“Do you like my hair down?” Junghan asks, out of the blue, stomach turning as he once more thinks of Hansol.

“I like it either way,” Mingyu murmurs. “You’re pretty all the time.”

Junghan blushes and sinks into his seat, looking away from the younger, but he can still feel his eyes burning into him until the light turns green.

 

“Do you have a key for Minghao’s apartment?” Mingyu asks when they finally pull up to the front doors of Minghaos building.

“Minghao probably hasn’t left yet,” Junghan says. “I’m supposed to watch his son, but even if he isn’t home, I know the key code.”

“You watch his son?” Mingyu looks intrigued. “How old is he again?”

“He just turned one two months ago,” Junghan replies. He pauses for a moment, thinking it over, then adds, “Do you want to meet him?”

Mingyu gives him a surprised look. “Are you sure?”

Junghan nods. “Plus, if Minghao’s home, you can scare him for being late to work,” He grins, and Mingyu laughs.

The valet takes their car away, and Junghan buzzes them into the lobby. Two business men passing suddenly bow when Mingyu walks by, and he waves at them lightly. Junghan chooses to ignore it.

They reach Minghao’s floor, and when they step out of the elevator a sense of dread suddenly washes over Junghan. He pauses between the doors, trying to push down the feeling. Something felt wrong, and he didn’t like it.

Mingyu, who’s already took a few steps forward, turns to look at him. “Are you alright?”

Junghan nods slowly, shaking the sense away and striding towards Minghao’s door. He knocks first, just to see if anyone’s home. After a few seconds, he starts to punch in the key code, saying, “I guess he left,” but the door swings open as he does.

It’s not Minghao standing there. It’s Jisoo. The dread comes creeping back up Junghan’s spine, and his throat closes up as Jisoo stares at him.

Mingyu must notice the silence, because he shifts, putting a hand against the small of Junghan’s back and clearing his throat.

“Hello, Jisoo,” He says smoothly, and Jisoo almost jumps a foot in the air when he sees who it is.

“Sir!” He bows low, opening the door more. “What are you doing here?”

“What is he doing here?” Junghan snaps suddenly. “What are _you_ doing here?”

Jisoo looks surprised. “Minghao and I are carpooling to work.”

“Well, I’m supposed to watch Chan, so move,” Junghan growls, bodily shoving Jisoo out of the way. Behind him, he can hear Mingyu murmuring something to the elder, and Jisoo letting him step inside as well.

He rounds the corner and comes into the living room, and instead of just Chan he finds the toddler on the carpet with Hansol. The younger looks up, and his face goes blank, and they just stare at each other, the silence so thick it suffocates them both.

Mingyu comes strolling around the corner as well, and Jisoo moves past Junghan to go sit on the couch near Hansol. Hansol glances at Mingyu, then at Junghan, then back again.

“Why are you here?” Junghan asks, and it comes out sounding more vicious than he had intended.

Hansol looks like he’s trying to hide the hurt in his eyes as he replies, “Minghao called me to watch Chan.”

Minghao comes down the hall then, too, almost walking into the wall when he spots Mingyu.

“Sir!” He bows again, like Jisoo. Mingyu nods at him, smiling. “What’re you two doing here?”

“I’m watching Chan,” Junghan says, words wavering as he looks away from Hansol to Minghao. Minghao’s face pales.

“I thought you’d be spending the afternoon with Mingyu so I called Hansol,” The younger says, voice apologetic. “I’m sorry.”

On the floor, Hansol lifts Chan into his arms, moving to sit beside Jisoo on the couch. Their thighs touch, and Jisoo smiles at him. Junghan sees red. He thinks his hands are starting to shake.

Mingyu clears his throat. “We had a change of plans,” He explains. He glances at Hansol, eyes sharp. “I don’t think we’ve met properly. I’m Mingyu.”

Hansol’s face twists slightly, like he ate something sour. “Hansol,” He says shortly. He’s still glancing between Mingyu and Junghan every few seconds. “How do you know Junghan?”

Junghan bristles, blood boiling like it had this morning when he saw Hansol’s pathetic excuse for an apology via text. He slips his arm between Mingyu’s, linking them together and glaring at the omega. “He’s my alpha.”

Minghao makes a noise that sounds like he’s choking, and Jisoo looks so surprised his eyes might pop out of his head. Hansol’s face twitches.

“Your alpha?” He repeats. He narrows his eyes. “Since when?”

“I don’t think that’s really any of your business,” Mingyu murmurs, voice velvety soft, and he’s giving Hansol a dark look. Jisoo shifts uncomfortably beside him, clearly torn between protecting his own omega and respecting his boss. Hansol glares at Mingyu but stays silent, shifting closer to Jisoo as his omega subconscious recognizes the closeness to an angry alpha.

Minghao coughs loudly. “Well, congratulations,” He says, clapping Junghan on the back. “Maybe you two should go out and celebrate. Hansol’s got watching Chan covered.”

Junghan stands there, still fuming and glaring at Hansol with as much fire as he could muster. He feels Mingyu press against the small of his back again, directing him back towards the door.

“I’ll see you both tomorrow,” Mingyu says, looking back at Jisoo. He and Minghao both nod, bowing. Junghan can still feel Hansol’s glare matching his own and burning a hole through his skull when Mingyu finally pushes him back out the door. His eyes sting, like he’s about to cry angry tears, and he tries to use sheer willpower to keep them in. He doesn’t want to cry in front of the man he probably just embarrassed in front of his employees.

Neither of them speak as they step into the elevator. Only when the doors close does Mingyu murmur, “Are you alright?”

Junghan’s bottom lip quivers, and he shakes his head, looking down at his feet. Everything looks watery.

“Are you crying?” Mingyu asks, sounding startled. He reaches out for Junghan, and the elder turns away, hiding his face in the corner. He tries not to hiccup when he finally does start crying, but he can feel himself shaking.

“I’m sorry I involved you in that,” He whispers shakily. “I didn’t know they were gonna be there.”

“Junghan, it’s okay,” Mingyu’s hand brushes against Junghan’s shoulder, as Junghan tries to swallow a sob. “Junghan, look at me.”

Junghan tries not to, but Mingyu gently pries him away from the wall, using a grip on his chin to turn his face towards him. Junghan wipes at his face, smearing the tracks away, but his throat is still tight and he’s gasping through a fresh batch of tears.. Mingyu’s eyes look soft, softer than Junghan’s seen them all morning. He uses his free hand to tuck Junghan’s hair behind his ears again, giving him a small smile.

“It’s okay, Junghan,” He repeats gently. “It doesn’t change anything. I still like you.”

“I told them you were my alpha,” Junghan stutters shakily, sniffling pathetically. “I’m sorry.”

Mingyu laughs. “I told you I wanted to be your alpha. Why would I be upset about that?”

Junghan trembles when the younger moves his hands to cup his face, using his thumbs to wipe away the tears as they fall. “I don’t know,” He whispers. “No one’s ever liked me before.”

Mingyu tsks, and this time pulls Junghan against him, so his face is resting against his chest. Mingyu wraps his arms around the elder, holding him close. Junghan can hear his heartbeat, and he feels solid, warm. Like Hansol used to when they hugged. But he smells different, like an alpha, comforting and like he could protect Junghan. It makes the elder cry harder against his nice dress shirt.

“Do you want me to bring you home?” Mingyu asks, and he’s started stroking Junghan’s hair, running his fingers through it gently. It’s helping him catch his breath, for some reason. Junghan nods, sniffling again. The elevator dings, and Mingyu pulls away, but keeps his arm around the elder’s wrist, so he can guide him into the lobby. A few people waiting to step into the elevator give him an odd look, and he knows he probably looks gross, but he can’t bring himself to care.

The valet brings Mingyu’s car around, and Mingyu holds the passenger door open for Junghan, and even moves to put his seatbelt on. Junghan tries to protest, but Mingyu ignores him and clicks it into place, face impossibly close to Junghan’s.

He closes the door and rounds the car, getting into the driver’s seat.

“What’s your address?” Mingyu asks quietly, and motions for Junghan to type it into the car's GPS system. Junghan does, not even caring that it’s almost an hour and a half away. The car’s engine roars to life, the AC blasting a little too much into Junghan’s face, and Mingyu silently peels out of the buildings entrance and onto the road.

 

He must’ve fallen asleep, because when he opens his eyes they’re pulling in front of his apartment building, back in the suburbs, surrounded by trees and silence and the familiar peeling brown paint of the building’s front door. Mingyu notices when he’s awake, cutting the car’s engine and just sitting there.

Junghan pulls at the hair sticking to his cheek. His whole face feels puffy and his eyes sting.

“Thanks for taking me home,” He mumbles. His voice sounds raspy, but he doesn’t bother clearing his throat.

Mingyu taps his fingers on the steering wheel, looking at him with that soft look from before. “It’s no problem.”

Junghan doesn’t want to get out of the car. Junghan doesn’t want to go back up to the apartment where it’s too empty and he can hear his own thoughts echoing and the sheets on the left side of the bed still smell like Hansol because he hasn’t had the heart to wash them yet.

“I don’t want to be alone,” He whispers, and he has to look down at his hands when he says it. He can feel his eyes burning again, in the early stages of crying, just barely welling up.

“Do you want me to come up?” Mingyu murmurs, and when Junghan glances up the younger looks genuinely concerned.

Junghan nods.

Mingyu smiles at him, unbuckling his belt and getting out of the car first. Junghan has to take a moment to gather his surroundings, organize his thoughts, and by the time he’s unbuckling his own Mingyu is opening the passenger door for him. Junghan steps out slowly, digging for his keys in his jean pockets, and not looking up at the looming building in front of him.

“Am I allowed in there?” Mingyu asks as Junghan uses one key to open the building's front door.

“Why wouldn’t you be?”

“Aren’t these omega sanctioned apartments? Are alpha’s allowed in there?”

Junghan can’t help but laugh. “That just means alpha’s can’t live here. You can come in though.”

Mingyu steps into the foyer, crinkling his nose. “I’ve never been in omega apartments before.”

“Does it smell that weird?”

“I can pick out your scent the strongest, so, no,” Mingyu says, shaking his head, and Junghan can feel his face heating up.

They take the elevator up to their floor in silence, and when they finally reach Junghan’s apartment Mingyu scrunches up his nose again, making a face as Junghan unlocks the door with his second key.

“What’s wrong?” Junghan asks. Mingyu just shakes his again.

“Nothing.”

Junghan is hyper aware of how empty the apartment looks, how messy it is due to his lack of motivation to go outside, let alone clean the past week. He closes the door behind him, pulling off Hansol’s sweatshirt and dumping it on the kitchen floor before heading down the hall towards his room. He can hear Mingyu toeing off his shoes by the door, and when he finally wanders his way into the bedroom, Junghan is face down on his side of the bed. He hears Mingyu chuckle behind him, and moves so he’s laying on his cheek when he feels a dip on the left side of the bed. Mingyu sits on the edge, looking down at him with a very fond look.

Junghan pats Hansol’s side of the bed. He wants to sleep next to someone again; feel their body heat and listen to their even breathing like he used to. Hansol wasn’t here anymore, so Mingyu was the next best thing.

“Sleep with me,” Junghan mumbles, and rolls his eyes when Mingyu splutters in response. “You know what I mean, idiot.”

Mingyu clears his throat, shrugging his jacket off, and begins loosening his tie. Junghan watches, waiting patiently, eyelids already slipping closed. He opens them again when the bed shifts, squeaking, and he finds Mingyu laying beside him, staring at him.

“Way to be creepy,” Junghan mutters, and Mingyu just smiles. The younger lifts one of his arms, an invitation, and Junghan doesn’t hesitate to scoot closer, burrowing closer and pressing his nose against Mingyu’s neck. Mingyu wraps his arms around him, and Junghan falls asleep faster then he has in a long time.

 

When Junghan wakes up, it’s getting dark outside, and he can’t breathe. His throat is closed up and he can’t stop coughing, jerking awake and up into a sitting position as panic settles in his bones and his brain goes into overdrive realizing it isn’t receiving oxygen.

Mingyu lurches awake beside him, sitting up with wild eyes and even wilder hair. He takes one look at the elder and looks just as panicked, and all he can get out is, “What’s wrong?”

Junghan just shakes his head, blindly reaching for his phone on his nightstand as he coughs it out. He presses speed dial 1 without looking, and he brings it up to his ear as he catches his breath, gasping for breath. It rings a few times, and then Hansol’s voice rings clearly through the speaker, loud enough that even Mingyu could hear, a grumbled, “What do you want, Junghan?”

The tone of his voice hits Junghan like a stake through the heart, and he winces, pressing end call without saying a word and dropping his phone to the sheets. Mingyu is still sitting there, now staring at his phone, face blank.

Junghan gets to his feet, stumbling down the hall and to the kitchen. He searches through the cabinets for a water glass, finally grabbing it up and filling it up from the sink. As he’s drinking it, the kitchen lights flick on, and he squints as his eyes adjust. Mingyu stands on the edge of the kitchen, hand still on the light switch. He looks strangely normal in the shitty kitchen lighting, only in his socks, hair mussed and a few buttons undone and dark bags under his eyes. He frowns at Junghan, looking like he’s torn between anger and worry.

“What was that?” He finally asks, and Junghan hates how his voice echoes against the walls from the lack of Hansol’s things.

Junghan finishes the water with a sigh, dropping it in the sink and holding onto the countertop edge. “I have sleep apnea,” He rasps out. “Sorry.”

Mingyu takes a step closer, and then back, unsure. “Does that happen often?”

Junghan nods. He doesn’t want to look Mingyu in the eye. There’s a long silence, and then, “Who did you call?”

Mingyu knows who he called, and when Junghan looks up Mingyu’s lips are pressed together in a thin line.

“Doesn’t matter,” Junghan finally replies, dropping his head to look down at the linoleum and count the tiles instead.

He can hear the way Mingyu sighs audibly, and his footsteps as he retreats back to Junghan’s bedroom. Junghan pours himself another glass of water, trying not to wonder if Mingyu was going to stay the rest of the night.

He gets his answer seconds later, when Mingyu comes back down the hall, tying his tie back around his neck, jacket on his arm. He picks up one of his shoes from near the door, sliding it on without tying it. Junghan watches him, one hand still braced on the counter and the other holding the glass of water so tightly his knuckles were turning white.

“Sorry,” He mumbles again, and Mingyu stops, other shoe in hand, to give Junghan a blank look. He sighs again, wrinkling his nose like he had earlier, and straightens up once he puts his other shoe on.

“Call me tomorrow,” He says, and it sounds like a command. Junghan nods in response. His heart feels too heavy and too low in his stomach, like an anchor, and he can already feel the prickle of anxiety under his skin as he watches Mingyu pull on his jacket. When Mingyu looks back at him, he must see the worry on Junghan’s face, because he strides forward so he can come to a stop just in front of the elder. He reaches a hand out, towards Junghan’s cheek, but seems to decide against it, and instead just tucks Junghan’s hair behind his ear. He keeps his hand there, lingering, fingers brushing just beneath Junghan’s earlobe.

“I want you to come live with me,” Mingyu says, abruptly, but so casually that if a stranger were listening it would sound like they had been dating for months. Junghan doesn’t want to deal with this right now, but he can’t find a way out.

“I haven’t given you an answer yet,” Junghan whispers, avoiding eye contact. “You’ve only known me a week.”

“Didn’t Hansol and Jisoo just meet the other night?” Mingyu asks, and Junghan tries not to wince. Mingyu drops his hand, sighing. He was sighing a lot tonight, and Junghan didn’t like the feeling he got when he realizes he was the cause of it. “This place smells like that kid. I don’t think it’s good for you to linger here.”

He moves away, back to the door, and Junghan lets him go. As he’s opening the door, he turns around one more time, and the kitchen light barely touches him there, hiding him in the shadows.

“We’ll talk tomorrow, Junghan,” He says quietly, and then he’s slipping out the door, letting it close gently behind him.

 

Junghan can’t fall back asleep. Instead, he lays in his bed staring at the ceiling, thinking about how the left side of his bed no longer smells like Hansol, but now smells like an alpha, strong and soft and still warm, the sheets indented from where he’d slept. Around two in the morning, he leaves his apartment, and walks to the train station to take the empty subway into the city.

The streets are empty as well, but it seems like every light is on, cars zooming past to go God knows where at this hour, when he reaches Minghao’s apartment building. He lets himself in, riding the elevator to his floor and keying the code into Minghao’s front door without knocking. He figures the younger was asleep anyway.

The apartment is eerily quiet, the light from the city illuminating the living and dining room through the ceiling to floor windows. On the carpet of the living room, Junghan spots a few of Chan’s toys, and his blanket. He picks it up without thinking, and brings it with him down the hall.

When he pushes open Minghao’s bedroom door, he finds Chan sleeping in Minghao’s arms in his bed, both of them looking too small for the king size. Junghan shrugs off his sweater and crawls in on the other side, pulling the covers over him. Minghao rouses, shifting slightly.

“Junghan?” The younger mumbles, still half asleep and squinting in the dark at him. “What time is it?”

“I think it’s three am,” Junghan whispers back. He reaches out to smooth down Chan’s hair as the toddler sleeps. “Can I hold Chan?”

Minghao nods, eyes slipping back closed, and Junghan carefully takes Chan from him. The toddler doesn’t even stir, still sleeping soundly. Junghan pulls him close, laying on his side so Chan could lay on the mattress as well, and press his nose against the toddler’s head. Minghao is breathing evenly again, fast asleep, and Junghan lets himself drift as well listening to Chan’s heartbeat.

 

Chan wakes both he and Minghao up early in the morning, when the sun is still rising and the sky is tinted pink. He cries for attention, and Junghan jerks awake first, disoriented for a moment before he remembers coming here in the middle of the night. Chan is still in his arms, and when the toddler sees he’s awake he smiles brilliantly at the other, reaching for Junghan’s hair to tug on. Minghao wakes next, slowly, one eye cracked open as he uses his elbows to raise himself off the pillow and look around.

“Did you come over at like two in the morning?” Is the first thing he asks, and Junghan nods, grinning at him.

“Three,” He corrects, and Minghao snorts, flopping back down on the pillow. Chan wiggles out of Junghan’s arms and crawls over to his father, sitting himself down on Minghao’s chest. Minghao groans, eyes still closed, but he’s smiling as he wraps his arms around his son and pretends to hold him hostage tightly against him. Junghan watches them fondly, until Chan settles down between them, playing with his feet contently.

“So,” Minghao starts. “What happened with Mingyu?”

Everything comes rushing back to Junghan, and for a moment he can’t respond as he remembers the previous evening.

“Stuff,” He eventually replies, and Minghao gives him a pointed look. “I had an apnea attack and called Hansol while Mingyu was there.”

Minghao sighs, rubbing his head. “Why would you call Hansol?”

Junghan pulls the covers up to his chin, avoiding the youngers gaze. “I don’t know. I panicked. Hansol usually helped me through my attacks.”

“Hansol doesn’t live with you anymore,” Minghao says, gently, and Junghan can’t even find it in himself to glare at him. “Is Mingyu really your alpha?”

Junghan shakes his head. “He offered, but I didn’t accept yet. I just said that in the moment to annoy Hansol.”

“You’re so petty,” Minghao scolds, clicking his tongue. Junghan smacks him in the chest, lightly because he has to avoid hitting Chan between them.  
“You would’ve done the same.”

“Are you going to accept?”

“I don’t know,” Junghan shrugs. “He told me to call him today.”

Minghao sits up so quickly the blankets are pulled off the elder, and even Chan looks up at his father in surprise.

“Well, then, why are we laying here talking about him?” Minghao demands. “Why aren’t you calling him right now?”

Junghan twists his head to look at the alarm clock on Minghao’s bedside table. “It’s seven thirty in the morning, Minghao.”

“I told you, he works odd hours. He’s probably still awake,” Minghao is already on his feet, heading for his phone on the dresser. “I’m calling him.”

Junghan groans in response. “Minghao, stop,” He whines, but it sounds lame even to his own ears, and he doesn’t fight it when Minghao marches over and holds his phone to Junghan’s ear, Mingyu’s number already ringing.

After two rings, Mingyu answers with a clear, “Hello?”

“Hi,” Junghan says, voice coming out small. He glances up at Minghao, who’s smiling at him to continue. “It’s Junghan.”

There’s a pause, and then, “Oh. Hi, Junghan. Why are you calling from Minghao’s phone?”

“I went to his place last night,” Junghan replies. He clears his throat, and beside him, Chan reaches out to grab hold of one of his fingers. It strangely gives him confidence to get out, “Do you want to meet me for coffee? We can.. talk.”

Another pause. “Alright. Same place as yesterday?”

“Yeah.”

Neither of them say goodbye, hanging up at almost the same time. Minghao looks down at him expectantly.

“That went well,” He says happily, and Junghan flips him off, pulling the blankets over his face with another groan.

 

When Junghan enters the coffee shop, it’s all but empty, only two people waiting on their coffee orders and Mingyu sitting at a table in the corner. He’s got his arms crossed, looking down at his coffee on the table, mouth set in a straight line again, brow furrowed. He’s wearing another button down, but different pants this time, maroon colored, and no tie. His sleeves are rolled up, too.

Junghan walks over and pulls the chair across from him out. The feet scrape against the floor loudly, and Mingyu glances up at it, face lighting up when he sees who it is.

“Junghan,” He breathes out, and for a moment he looks so vulnerable, the soft morning light and the cheap, eco-friendly light bulbs of the coffee shop hitting his face just right, so that he looks something like a lost child who’s just been reunited with their parent.

“Hi,” Junghan says softly. He curls his fingers around the edge of the table, digging them in until his knuckles turn white just because he has so much to say and he doesn’t know where to start.

“Did you have time to think?” Mingyu asks, staring right at him, waiting for him to meet his gaze. When Junghan does, he can’t read the youngers expression, but his eyes are gentle, like they usually are. Junghan nods.

“I think,” He begins, tracing circles on the wood of the table with the tip of his index finger. “It’d be a good idea for me to move in with you.”

“It’d be a good idea?” Mingyu repeats. “Or you want to?”

“I’d like to,” Junghan clarifies. He runs his hand through his hair nervously. It’s probably a mess, since he’d just rolled out of Minghao’s bed and ran out the door before the younger could yell at him for wearing the same thing from yesterday (sans Hansol’s sweater) “I don’t know if I want you to be my alpha. But this is how it’s supposed to go, and I think I need to move on.”

It lingers between them for a second, the _move on_ part. When he said it, he obviously meant move on from Hansol. From their apartment, from the time they spent together, from his feelings that still burned and sent his heart up in flames. He knows Mingyu knows that as well.

Mingyu clears his throat, leaning forward slightly, but not reaching out. Respecting Junghan's space (which he thinks is almost comical, considering he slept in the younger's arms yesterday evening). "I don't want you to do this because you think 'this is how it's supposed to go'. I want you to do it because you want to."

"I want to," Junghan frowns. This wasn't coming out right. He didn't know how to speak to someone who liked him so much, since he'd never experienced it with anyone other than Hansol (But he was used to Hansol. Hansol was comfortable, Hansol was easy to talk to. Hansol was home.) "I want to move in with you. But, I don't know about you being my alpha. More for your sake than mine, because I don't think I'd be a very good omega to you."

"I was always taught the omega was the more important person in these relationships, actually," Mingyu says, and Junghan would laugh if his eyes weren't so serious. He has nothing else to say. They stare at each other, waiting for one of them to break the silence, until finally Mingyu reaches up to run his hand through his hair and sigh. Junghan wonders once again how someone so physically attractive would be interested in him, let alone want to be his alpha.

"When would you like to move in?" Mingyu asks, and Junghan is snapped back into reality from eyeing the younger's full lips.

"When do you want me to move in?" Junghan asks carefully. He was treading new water, and he doesn't want to overstep any lines he hasn't been informed of yet.

Mingyu's eyes flit over him, from his hair to his lips, to the collar of his shirt dipping past his collarbones, to his fingers still tracing the table mindlessly, and then back up to meet his gaze.

"As soon as possible," He murmurs, and Junghan feels something tingle up his spine.

 

Junghan doesn't have a lot of things. He realizes this as he folds the last of his clothes and places them into one of the brown boxes his landlord had provided (She was more than ecstatic when he informed her he would be moving in with an alpha, disregarding how he had explicitly stated he wasn't _his_ alpha yet and instead cooing to him that she knew it was only a matter of time before he, too, moved out. He doesn't register it until he's on the elevator, that Hansol must've come to her as well to tell her he would be leaving, that she was the one who had given him all those boxes.) All of his clothes fit into one large box, his shoes in another, and his personal items in a third. Another one contains a mismatch of items, bathroom accessories, a few mugs and dishes and his favorite blankets. He can hear Mingyu taping it up in the kitchen, dressed in a surprisingly casual outfit of jeans and a button down, hair disheveled and looking sleepy and domestic helping Junghan pack up his (pathetic) life into cardboard boxes.

He hears the door open, and assumes Mingyu is bringing a box to his car, until he hears him talking to someone. He sighs, rubbing his eyes. He didn't want his landlord meeting Mingyu and asking him personal questions that Junghan didn’t even want to imagine.

He tapes up the box of his clothes, marking it neatly with a Sharpie and lifting it into his arms. It's predictably not heavy at all, and he briefly wonders if Mingyu will judge him for his light wardrobe when he's sure the younger has rooms full of expensive clothes. He doubts it though; Mingyu doesn't seem like that kind of person.

"Don't say anything to her, Mingyu," Junghan calls when he hears their voices talking once again. He heads down the hallway, flipping his hair out of his face as he rounds the corner. "She's too nosey for her own-"

It's not the landlord standing in the doorway. It's Hansol. He stands before Mingyu, in a t-shirt and jeans and that stupid fucking leather jacket he wears no matter how god damn hot it is outside, and when he spots Junghan he shoves past Mingyu purposefully to head for the elder.

"Why didn't you pick up your phone?" He demands. Junghan stands frozen, still slightly shocked that he was here, speaking to him, with Mingyu in the room as well. He has an almost blinding flashback to being in Hansol's place, standing before he and Jisoo and seeing the younger's life packed away in boxes to be moved so easily, like the memories they shared in this apartment were nothing, like he could so effortlessly be replaced without a second thought once a better suitor presented himself.

It's with that he sees red for a flashing second, thawing him out of his shock and making his hands shake, his eyes narrow, his blood boil, akin to how he'd felt last time he'd seen him, on the floor of Minghao's apartment acting as though he hadn't texted him the most shit excuse for an apology that had ever been sent.

"Why does it matter to you?" He snaps, and even Mingyu looks surprised. Hansol frowns, eyes flickering to Mingyu, like he didn't want to be seen being scolded in front of the elder, and it just fuels Junghan's anger further. "How did you even get in here? _Why_ are you even here?"

"I-" Hansol bites his tongue, trying to look Junghan in the eye. "I wanted to talk to you. And I still have a key," He holds it up to prove his point, and Junghan almost makes a grab for it before he remembers the box in his arms.

"Well, you can keep it," Junghan says. "I'm moving, anyway."

Hansol whips around to look at Mingyu, who's still standing by the door, watching them both with an expressionless face. Hansol stares at him, then turns back to Junghan, looking half distressed, half furious.

"With him?" He points at Mingyu like he's an animal. "You're moving in with him? You barely know him!"

"I don't recall getting a say in who you moved in with," Junghan snarls, and he's shaking so bad now he drops the box without realizing it, making Hansol jump back, and Mingyu start forward with a worried look. "And you moved in with Jisoo, what, the morning after you met him? One night stand and that's it for you, yeah?"

Hansol glares at him. "That's not-"

"That's not fair?" Junghan spits. His vision is dotting black, and he wishes he wasn't doing this in front of Mingyu, he wishes he could've said this to Hansol when he was leaving, but it's too late now. "You know what's not fucking fair, Hansol? That you didn't even fucking _tell_ me. You didn't tell me you were leaving, you were going to wait until I came home to an empty fucking house to call me and let me know. All I did was sit around at home while you went out looking for alphas, all I did was fucking _love_ you, and you have the audacity to leave without a word and then come storming back in here thinking you have a say in who I move in with? Who I choose as an alpha? Fuck you, Hansol."

He thinks he's crying. He can't really tell, because he feels a bit numb, shaking too hard to realize someone's touching him until Mingyu is grabbing at his shoulders firmly, leaning down so he can look him in the eyes.

"Junghan," Mingyu murmurs, and his voice is calm despite the worry set in the lines of his face. "Junghan, look at me. Take a breath for me."

It takes several tries. He hiccups his way through two sobs until he finally takes a deep breath, gripping Mingyu’s arms to steady himself. Mingyu reaches a hand up and wipes the tear tracks on his cheeks (oh, he _was_ crying), giving him a small smile. Behind him, Hansol stands, face blank, watching them.

It isn't until Junghan's stopped crying, his breathing evening out and Mingyu retrieving the box from the floor with one hand, hoisting it on his hip so he could hold Junghan's own with the other, that Hansol speaks up.

"I miss you, Junghan," He mutters, and it's so quiet had they been anywhere but an empty apartment they would've missed it. But Junghan hears it, and so does Mingyu.

Hansol continues, looking at the floor. He's digging the point of his key into his palm hard enough that he's almost breaking skin, and Junghan would say something but he's tired of talking. "Jisoo sent me here to ask if you wanted to come to dinner at our place next Thursday. Both of you," He glances up at Mingyu, who stands almost a whole head taller than him, and quickly looks back down at his feet. "I want you to come over. I miss you."

Mingyu squeezes Junghan's hand, and it feels familiar against his palm, grounding him despite his racing heart and still shaking fingers. Junghan swallows hard before responding.

"Just us?" He asks.

Hansol looks up at him. His eyes are watery like they get when he's trying to hold back tears. "Minghao's coming, too."

Junghan nods. "Okay," He says. "We'll be there."

Mingyu says nothing beside him, a silent pillar for him to lean on, his hard look fixed on Hansol. The youngest glances between them both before settling on Junghan.

"Okay," He breathes. "Thanks." He steps forward, hesitantly, and then holds out his key towards Junghan. The elder just looks at it. He doesn't want to take it. He wants Hansol to keep it, even though he won't be here if he ever decided to come back.

Mingyu is the one who takes it, unlinking his hand with Junghan's and plucking the key from Hansol's palm. Hansol looks surprised, but says nothing as Mingyu tucks it into his back pocket.

"Tell Jisoo I said hello," Mingyu says. His voice is dismissive; a clear indication that he wants Hansol gone.

Hansol picks up on it as well, and nods to him. He looks at Junghan one last time, and something hopeful in the back of his mind thinks that maybe Hansol wants to hug him, or kiss him goodbye, like he used to, but instead he just nods at him and whispers, "I'll see you then."

The door slams behind him, a painful déjà vu of when he had left Junghan permanently. He's left in a silence once again, too thick to breathe, too loud in his ears, ringing. But then Mingyu takes his hand once more and lifts it to his lips, pressing them against the back of it, and he's grateful he isn't alone this time.

 

Mingyu's apartment is huge. Bigger than Minghao's, which Junghan always thought was enormous by comparison of his own.

This was another level though. Ceilings higher than Junghan could crane his neck, white leather furniture that was silky soft to the touch, chandeliers that were half the size of a car. Bookcases so tall they had ladders attached to reach the top shelves, six bathrooms and more bedrooms than Junghan thought necessary for a single alpha living alone.

Mingyu allows him to explore, carrying in his boxes instead while Junghan wanders the halls. Paintings that probably cost more than most people's annual salary line the walls. The beds have thick, satin sheets and comforters. Almost each bedroom has it's own personal balcony attached.

Junghan reaches a room he assumes is Mingyu, because when he pushes open the door it's more lived in than any of the others. The bed isn't made, the pillows strewn about the mattress, and a few pieces of clothing litter the floor, including the pinstripe suit Mingyu had worn when they'd first met at the restaurant last week. Junghan smiles fondly at the scene, and the first thing it reminds him of is Hansol coming home on weekends, tossing his clothes to the floor and drunkenly apologizing when Junghan scolded him and inevitably ended up picking them up.

"Sorry, it's a mess," Mingyu's voice sounds behind him, and he jumps in shock. Mingyu looks a bit sheepish standing there, scratching his head.

"It's okay," Junghan murmurs. An awkward silence ensues, and Junghan shifts from one foot to the other, avoiding eye contact.

"You can pick any room to sleep in," Mingyu finally says, and Junghan tries to hide his surprise. Most omegas slept in their alphas bed- but then again, he wasn't like most omegas.

"I figured since you weren't sure about me being your alpha, it'd be best to have separate rooms. For now," Mingyu clarifies, like he can read his thoughts.

Junghan nods. There's a bedroom directly across from Mingyu's, and he points to it. "I'll sleep there."

Mingyu smiles at him, looking pleased. "I do work odd hours, though, so I'm sorry if I keep you up."

"It's fine. I'll wake up anyway from my apnea a few times a night."

The younger's smile disappears, replaced with a look of worry. "Is there anything you can do about that?"

Junghan shakes his head. "There's a breathing machine people can use to help them sleep, but I don't want to use it."

"You'd rather die?" Mingyu's voice comes out hard, but he still looks worried. Junghan winces, and the younger takes a deep breath, looking away. "Sorry, I didn't mean that."

"It's okay," Junghan says, but it comes out as whisper. "I just don't wanna use that thing because it'll get in the way and I already sleep too little as is."

Mingyu nods like he understands, but the crease in his brow tells Junghan he doesn't.

 

The weekend passes slowly, time ticking by second by second. Junghan feels like his own thoughts are going to echo through this huge apartment if he thinks about them too hard, and so he tries to relax. But it's hard when Mingyu is there consistently, around every corner that the elder turns. These are his things, this is his home (Junghan's now, too, but Junghan keeps forgetting), and the fact that the apartment has that warm, strong alpha scent that's particular to Mingyu hanging off every thread and not the fresh scent of another omega throws Junghan off by miles.

On Saturday morning Junghan walks into one of the bathrooms, the closest one to him, and Mingyu's there, brushing his teeth, wearing sweatpants and no shirt and two different colored socks. His hair is damp like he's just showered, and when he turns to look at Junghan with a mouthful of foam and his toothbrush still hanging out, Junghan's heart skips a beat.

"Sorry," Junghan sputters, and Mingyu just smiles at him around all his spit. The fact that Junghan finds it almost adorably endearing makes him turn on heel and flee down the hall to the bathroom furthest from their rooms.

On Saturday night, Mingyu sinks into the leather couch wearing an oversized sweater and those same sweats, pulling his legs up and resting his head on Junghan's shoulder. Junghan stills for a moment, until Mingyu lets out a contented sigh, and he relaxes, going back to typing on his laptop.

"What are you doing?" Mingyu asks curiously, but his eyes are closed beside him.

"I'm filling out the Omega Transfer form," Junghan replies. He pauses at the question requesting his new address. "What's your address?"

"Thirty two eighty second and park, apartment 5601," Mingyu recites. He shifts his head so he can see the laptop and opens his eyes. "What's the Omega Transfer form?"

"It's what omega's need to file when they move in with an alpha from sanctioned housing. It helps them keep track of how much housing is available for of-age omegas."

"Why do you have two forms open?" Mingyu asks, pointing at the second tab, and Junghan tries to act casual.

"Hansol didn't fill one out, so I have to submit his for him," Junghan mumbles, and Mingyu snorts.

"Why can't he fill out his own?"

Junghan bites his lip. "Because if it's not submitted on time, they can forcibly make him move out of Jisoo's place."

Mingyu tilts his head to look Junghan in the eye. Junghan doesn't turn his head, still typing in the form, but he can feel his stare burning against his cheek.

Finally, Mingyu stands, stretching, and walks off to his bedroom. Junghan sits in silence in the living room for another hour, waiting until he hears Mingyu finish his nightly routine and shut his bedroom door before completing both forms.

 

Sunday comes and goes without a hitch, Mingyu disappearing around noon saying something about work and leaving Junghan by himself. The apartment is too big for one person, and Junghan wonders how Mingyu has lived alone all this time. He must have gotten very lonely.

Junghan spends most of the day doing nothing, taking naps and texting Minghao and food shopping. There's not much food in Mingyu's fridge; he thinks he eats out a lot. But Junghan likes to cook, and if Mingyu doesn't want to eat it, then there's more for him.

When he comes home in the evening with bags of groceries, Mingyu is home. He's sat on the edge of the couch, watching the news closely. The newscaster is discussing a recent double suicide of two businessmen, and Mingyu is so engrossed in it he doesn't react until Junghan walks over and taps him on the shoulder.

The younger jumps when touched. "Oh, sorry," He says, and quickly turns off the tv. He's wearing slacks and a button down again, his suit jacket thrown on the couch beside him. Junghan picks it up for him, folding it neatly.

"You went food shopping?" Mingyu asks when he wanders into the kitchen and spots the bags. He peeks into them, much like a child would.

"Yeah," Junghan lays his folded jacket over the back of the armchair and follows him over. "I don't know if you eat at home a lot, but I like to cook, so," He trails off, nothing left to say.

Mingyu smiles at him, and his eyes look soft. "You like to cook? That's nice. I don't think I've eaten at home in years."

Junghan snorts. "I could tell by the six month expired milk in your fridge," He replies, and Mingyu laughs. He lingers in the kitchen while Junghan cooks, watching him closely from the bar top, and he looks like he's seen an angel when he finally eats. Junghan gets a warm feeling in his chest when the younger praises him, and goes to bed in a better mood than he has in awhile.

 

He wakes up what has to be only a few hours later, choking on air. No matter how many times this happens, his brain still panics each time, causing him to gasp for air like he was drowning, tears filling his eyes. He's coughing violently, still laying on his side when the door swings open and Mingyu's there, rushing to his side with a glass of water. He helps Junghan sit up, a hand pressed against the middle of his back as he hands him the water. Junghan nods in thanks, downing half of it in one go. Mingyu rubs circles on his back, looking worried, until Junghan finally breathes normally, taking deep breaths.

"Sorry," He croaks out.

Mingyu shakes his head. "It's not your fault."

Junghan pats the bed around him, looking for the hair tie that had fallen out during the night. He finally finds it and uses it to pull his hair up into a bun. He can feel Mingyu's gaze burning into him as he does it, watching him.

After a long silence, Junghan mumbles, "Thanks."

It takes Mingyu a second, but he realizes this as his cue to leave, and he gets to his feet, face blank save for the worry still in his eyes. "Sleep well, Junghan," He says, closing the door behind him, and Junghan is left listening to the younger's own bedroom door closing and his own heartbeat pounding in his ears.

 

Monday morning comes with bright sunshine and birds tweeting outside his balcony window, and Junghan consoles himself that maybe this means today will be a better day. A better week. His throat still aches from last night, and it's still early morning so he's expecting Mingyu to be asleep. He's surprised when he finds Mingyu in the kitchen in suit and tie, staring at the brewing coffee pot with a dead eyed, detached look.

"Good morning," Junghan says, and Mingyu turns and blinks at him a few times like he's still half asleep before coming to.

"Good morning," Mingyu says back. "Did you sleep better after last night?"

Junghan nods. "Yeah. Thanks for bringing me water."

"You're welcome."

They each get ready in silence, and when Junghan's just pulling on his sneakers Mingyu pushes open the door to his bedroom.

"Do you want a ride to Minghao's?" He asks. Junghan actually has no idea how to get Minghao's from here, so he accepts it gratefully.

Minghao turns out to live only a few minutes from Mingyu's (and Junghan's) apartment. Mingyu drops him off after a quiet car ride, and before Junghan steps out of the car, Mingyu reaches out and very gently places his hand on top of Junghan's resting on his thigh.

"If you need me, you can call me," He says. Junghan looks at the younger's hand on his for a second; the weight of it and the warmth spreading on his skin was familiar, but in a way that reminded him of Hansol, because Hansol was the one who used to touch him like that, in those places. Soft, gentle. Loving.

Junghan clears his throat, pulling his hand away and nodding. "Okay," He replies, and he's out of the car and closing the door without looking back at Mingyu's expression.

Junghan punches in the key code once he reaches Minghao's apartment, and instead of the usual cheerful morning greeting from his friend, he steps into silence. He actually has to walk around the apartment, calling Minghao's name, before he finds him in his bedroom. He's standing over Chan's crib, watching the toddler sleep. His face is blank, eyes empty and detached, and it briefly reminds Junghan of how Mingyu had looked the other night watching the news.

"Minghao?" Junghan repeats. He knocks on the door loudly to get his attention, and Minghao almost jumps, startled.

"Oh, you're here," The younger says. He glances back down at his son, then moves away from him, heading to his closet for a tie. He's wearing a plain black suit- an odd choice, in Junghan's opinion, for someone who shone so brightly from the inside out.

"Are you okay?" Junghan asks. Minghao doesn't answer, so Junghan says it again. "Did something happen?"

"Huh?" Minghao comes out of his closet tying a black tie around his neck. He doesn't make eye contact with Junghan. "Nah, I'm fine. Nothing happened."

He moves quickly around his room, collecting his things. Junghan watches him, completely lost as to what was happening.

"I moved in with Mingyu on Friday," Junghan says, and Minghao pauses as he's leaving the bedroom, finally looking up at him. He smiles at him, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

"I heard. I'm glad you moved out of your old apartment," Minghao checks his watch. "I have to go. I'll probably be late tonight, but if you need to go home early Seungkwan's home all day. You can just knock on his door."

Junghan nods. "Have a nice day."

Minghao grunts in response, disappearing down the hall, and the slam of the front door is all the reply Junghan gets.

He turns on his heel to look at Chan's crib, frowning. "What's wrong with your daddy?"

Chan doesn't acknowledge him, still fast asleep. His crib's mobile is still creaking in a slow circle above him, and that's when Junghan notices the picture of Junhui face down on the dresser. He picks it up, setting it upright again, wondering why Minghao would put it down. He cleans up Chan's clothes from the day earlier strewn around Minghao's floor, putting them in the hamper and going to the kitchen to make breakfast.

It takes Junghan awhile to realize, but it's when he's chasing Chan through the dining room, trying to settle him down for his afternoon nap, that he spots the kitchen calendar spread out on the table. He stops to pick it up and hang it back up in the kitchen, and as he does he sees a small red X drawn beside the fourteenth, which is just next week.

"Oh," He breathes out, and it feels like the wind's been knocked out of him when he realizes the fourteenth will mark a year since Junhui died.

Chan comes crawling back into the room, waving his blanket around, grinning. Junghan doesn't look away from the calendar until the toddler starts tugging at his pants. Junghan scoops him up into his arms, and when he does Chan looks at the calendar too, as though he could read it.

"Do you miss your other daddy?" Junghan whispers, and Chan looks at him with big eyes, smile gone. He waves his blanket around again, sticking his fist in his mouth. Junghan sighs and brings him back to the bedroom for his nap.

 

Mingyu comes around eight to pick him up, but Minghao isn't home yet. Junghan knocks on Minghao's neighbors door, as instructed, and the familiar looking beta opens it, smiling brilliantly.

"Hi, Junghan!" Seungkwan says. "What's up?"

"Um," Junghan shifts from one foot to the other. He had left Chan with Mingyu- or rather, Mingyu with Chan, because honestly he wasn't sure how the younger did with children. "I usually watch Chan but my ride's here so Minghao told me to just let you come watch Chan until he comes home."

Seungkwan's face lights up. "Of course!" He reaches for his keys on the hook, stepping out of his apartment and locking his own door. As he follows Junghan down the hall to Minghao's apartment, he checks his watch, frowning. "It's a bit late, no? Shouldn't Minghao be home by now?"

"He said he was going to work late," Junghan replies, but he bites the inside of his cheek as he remembers the detached, vacant look in Minghao's eyes this morning. Seungkwan nods as Junghan punches in the key code.

When they round the entry way into the living room, Junghan stops in his tracks. Mingyu is sitting on the floor, in his expensive suit, and has taken off his jacket so Chan could stand on it. He was holding the toddler's hands above his head, helping him stand on two feet. Chan was just a month over the regular age toddlers starting walking, but he hadn't quite gotten it down yet. Junghan knew Minghao blamed himself, for not being home often enough and Chan always being with the elder, but Junghan isn't worried. And as he watches, Mingyu raises to his own feet, towering above Chan and letting go of one hand. Carefully, Mingyu takes a step back, tugging at Chan's tiny hand, and the toddler follows, grinning a toothy smile at the alpha. Mingyu grins back at him, taking another step, and another, Chan following each one clumsily. Finally, Mingyu let's go of his hand, and Chan wobbles precariously in place, before coming to a stand still, looking up triumphantly at Mingyu as he stands all by himself.

"Did you just... teach him to walk?" Junghan asks, and Mingyu jumps, completely unaware they were standing there. Seungkwan looks dumbstruck.

Mingyu scratches his head awkwardly. "Uh... Maybe? Does he not know how to walk?"

"Well, he does now," Seungkwan says gleefully. Mingyu laughs. Seungkwan drops to his knees in front of Chan, who's starting to wobble once more. The beta whips out his phone, opening the camera and holding it out. "Smile, Chan! Smile for daddy!"

Chan giggles and takes two steps forward while Seungkwan records it, and then proceeds to topple over and fall on his bottom. Seungkwan laughs and ends the video.

"Minghao's gonna freak out," Seungkwan explains, opening his texts to send the video to Minghao. Junghan lurches forward, grabbing the phone from him.

"Don't send it to him," He blurts out, and both Seungkwan and Mingyu look surprised.

"What? Why? This is important!"

Junghan shakes his head "Minghao already feels like he's missing out on Chan's life. This is a big milestone. We need to make Minghao feel like he was here for it." He glances down at Chan, who was crawling back over Mingyu's jacket, babbling to himself. He deletes the video off Seungkwan's phone and hands it back to him. "Let's just pretend this didn't happen."

Seungkwan looks at his phone and then at Chan, sighing dejectedly. "Fine," He grumbles.

Mingyu clears his throat. "Shall we get going, then?" He says aloud, looking at Junghan, and the elder nods. Mingyu glances at his jacket, currently occupied by Chan, and smiles. "I'll get that later."

 

"Hey," Junghan says to Mingyu across the kitchen table at dinner. Mingyu looks up from his noodles, one hanging out almost comically. He slurps it up noisily.

"Yeah?"

"Did you know, um," Junghan looks down at his own noodles, trying to think of the right words. "Did you know about Minghao's husband?"

Mingyu's face pales a considerable amount. He looks like he was about to drop his chopsticks before he shook his head, seemingly to shake himself out of a daze. "Yeah," He finally replies, and his voice is duller than before. "I know. I knew him."

Junghan gives him a surprised look. "You knew him?"

"Seriously?" Mingyu looks half amused, half tired, raising an eyebrow at him. He picks at his noodles again, not eating, just moving them around the bowl. "He was my business partner."

"Business partner?" Junghan echoes.

"Kim & Wen Law Firm? My company? Well, _our_ company."

" _Oh_ ," Junghan breathes as he realizes. The law firm that Minghao worked for, and Mingyu owned. That must've been how Minghao met Junhui. He was his boss. Wen Junhui.

Junghan really needed to pay attention more often.

"I," Junghan scrambles for words to justify his lack of knowledge. "I never realized... I didn't-"

Mingyu snorts, shoving more noodles in his mouth. "It's fine," He mumbles around them. "But, yeah, I knew him. Business partner." He repeats the last part quietly, more to himself than aloud.

Junghan sits in his own silence, mulling this over. That meant that Mingyu most definitely knew that the anniversary of Junhui's death was just around the corner. Secretly, he steals a glance at the younger, now eating his noodles in a way that looked more so like he just wanted to make sure his mouth was full so he wouldn't have to speak rather than he was hungry. Was Mingyu close to Junhui? Had they been friends, or was everything strictly business between them? Were Mingyu and Minghao close, then?

Suddenly, he doesn't have much of an appetite. He picks up his bowl and pushes his chair back, taking it to the kitchen to wrap it and put it in the fridge. He can feel Mingyu's eyes boring into the back of his head as he goes.

 

The next morning comes in a brightness to strong, the sunlight burning the back of Junghan's eyelids and making him groan and cover his face with his pillow. He doesn't have to be at Minghao's until noon today, but it didn't look like he was getting any more sleep, despite it only being around eight in the morning. He can hear Mingyu in the kitchen, the coffee pot brewing loudly. He sighs, reaching for his phone on the nightstand. He's got a text from his mom, who he thinks is halfway across the world on a beach in the Caribbean, and another one from Hansol. He avoids opening it, mindlessly scrolling through the internet and doing his best to find something productive until he can't take it anymore. He opens the text, and it reads " _do u kno any1 u could bring 2 dinner 4 minghao? hes been really sad about jun recently."_

So, Hansol remembers too. Junghan snorts as he reads it. He and Hansol only know the same people; although now, that's debatable, since Junghan doesn't know who Jisoo has been introducing Hansol too. Probably his work friends. Junghan tries not to think about it.

Does he know anyone Hansol didn’t? The only other person he knows is Seungkwan, but he lives right across from Minghao, and he seems like too much of a chatterbox to keep a secret if Junghan asked him to not tell Minghao he was coming to the dinner as well. He could ask Mingyu if he had any people from work he thought would be a good match, but Mingyu knew Junhui, and he also is still Minghao's boss, so it might be a little awkward. There was Jihoon, and Seokmin, but they were so out of the picture Junghan doesn't even know why he bothered thinking of them. If he even thought of asking Seokmin to accompany Minghao to a dinner, Jihoon would probably rip his balls off.

Seungcheol. It hits Junghan with clarity, and he sits up so fast from bed he gets a bit dizzy. Seungcheol was nice, and gentle, and he comforted Junghan that night when Hansol was just meeting Jisoo and Junghan had felt unloved and uncomfortable at the restaurant. He would be perfect for Minghao; plus, the younger already knew him from work, so it couldn't be that bad, right? It would be like bringing a friend, that may possibly help him romantically, definitely emotionally.

The only problem is Junghan doesn't have Seungcheol's number. He doesn't have any way of getting in contact with him, other than... Mingyu. But would Mingyu understand? Junghan argues with himself that the younger would; he knew Minghao and he knew his situation, and he would see where Junghan and Hansol were coming from when they say they want him to meet other people. He just isn't sure if Mingyu would agree it should be another person from Minghao's workplace.

He waits until he hears Mingyu pad down the hall, and head into the bathroom, the door closing and the shower head starting up. Quietly, Junghan tiptoes out of his room and down the hallway. As he was hoping, Mingyu's phone is laying on the counter beside an empty coffee mug and his briefcase. Junghan picks it up like it's a time bomb, praying it doesn't have a password.

Luckily, it doesn't, and he's able to unlock it and open Mingyu's contacts. He scrolls through until he finds Seungcheol's number, pulling out his own phone and quickly copying his phone number. He's just placing Mingyu's phone inconspicuously on the counter when he hears Mingyu's footsteps coming down the hall. He scrambles with the phone and accidentally drops it in the sink. Panicking, he leans over the sink to fish it out just as Mingyu rounds the corner with wet hair and a towel around his shoulders.

The younger stops in his tracks, taking in the scene. He raises a brow at Junghan.

"Whatcha doin'?" He asks, giving the elder a small smirk. Junghan laughs, high pitched and nervous, and pulls Mingyu's phone out of the sink.

"Um. I dropped your phone in the sink."

Mingyu gives him an amused look. "You dropped my phone in the sink?"

Junghan nods. "Yes."

He waits with bated breath for Mingyu to pry further, ask why he had his phone in the first place, but Mingyu just shrugs and opens the fridge to grab a water bottle. "Okay."

Junghan stares at him in shock. He must've had such an obvious expression on his face because Mingyu pauses on his way back to the bathroom.

"Alright?" He asks, and Junghan finds it in himself to nod in response. Mingyu disappears, and Junghan stands there staring after him with both his and Mingyu's phones still in his hands.

He waits until Mingyu leaves for work, brushing his hand through Junghan's hair and murmuring a goodbye against his cheek when he leaned in to kiss him there, to call Seungcheol (Junghan likes how soft Mingyu's lips are, and he's glad that the younger isn't trying to push anything Junghan isn't ready for in their relationship. He likes that Mingyu waits for Junghan to nod in consent before even kissing him on the cheek.)

After three rings, Seungcheol's polite voice rings through the speaker. "Hello?" He asks cheerfully, and Junghan can't help but smile.

"Hi, Seungcheol," Junghan says. "This is Junghan... I don't know if you remember me, but we met at dinner a week ago?"

"Oh, Junghan!" Seungcheol replies almost immediately. "Of course! How are you? I heard you moved in with Mr. Kim."

Junghan almost snorts at _Mr. Kim_ before remembering the way Seungcheol (and Minghao and Jisoo) had been stuttering and nervous when Mingyu had randomly appeared that night at the restaurant. He was still there boss, and they were probably pretty terrified of him to act like that from just a five minute interaction.

"Yes, I did," Junghan says. "Actually, I was wondering something. This is a weird question, but... Are you seeing anyone right now?"

There's a pause, and then Seungcheol laughs. "Are you asking me on a date, Junghan? I don't think Mr. Kim would quite like that."

"No!" Junghan almost shouts. He probably should've worded that question better. "Oh, my God, no. I'm asking because we have to go to this dinner at Jisoo's place Thursday, and Minghao's coming along too, and I just," Junghan sighs. "He seems pretty lonely recently so I was wondering if maybe you'd come along? Keep him company maybe?"

"Are you sure this isn't a date request? Are you setting us up?" Seungcheol's voice sounds teasing, and Junghan laughs. It was easy to talk to Seungcheol, and he appreciated that.

"It doesn't have to be romantic if you don't want it to be. It can just be friendly. I just want him to cheer up a bit, and being a fifth wheel probably won't help."

Seungcheol sounds like he's typing something, and Junghan realizes he's probably at work as well. "I'm sure being a fifth wheel to his boss isn't going to help, either," He says, and Junghan can hear the smile in his voice. "Hmm... I'm actually free Thursday night, so I can definitely make it."

"Really?" Junghan sighs in relief. "Thank you, Seungcheol. This really means alot to me."

"It's no problem. I'll see you Thursday, then?"

"See you then!" Junghan replies a bit too happily, and smiles to himself stupidly as he hangs up. This would be good for Minghao; he's sure of it.

 

Mingyu comes home on Wednesday night late, so late Junghan’s eyelids were slipping closed as he laid on the sofa watching a drama rerun waiting for him. He hears the front door slam a little too loudly, and he’s just shifting to get up when Mingyu comes stumbling into the room, hair sticking up and tie undone and hanging off his neck. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to realize he’s piss drunk.

The younger staggers over to the couch and collapses onto Junghan, his entire body weight knocking the air out of the elder’s lungs. Junghan coughs, pushing at Mingyu’s shoulders for him to move a bit and let him breathe, but Mingyu just wraps his arms around Junghan’s neck, shaking his head.

“Let me stay here,” He mumbles against Junghan’s neck, and his lips are warm when they brush his skin. Junghan shivers and stops struggling. He’s not sure what to do with his hands, so he lets one rest on Mingyu's back, the other on top of his head.

"Did you have a business dinner?" Junghan asks quietly, but he knows that's not it. It's far too late and he's far too drunk for it to have been about business.

"I had a dinner with myself," Mingyu says, and then laughs at his own joke. "Me 'nd my business partner."

"What?"

"My business partner," Mingyu says again, frowning against Junghan's neck. "Jun."

Junghan swallows hard. "Junhui?"

"It wasn't my fault, right?" Mingyu slurs his words on Junghan's skin, and the elder can feel the way his teeth scrape against him. Junghan curls his fingers in Mingyu's hair, more for the purpose of pulling his head back slightly rather than touching it, but the younger lets out a groan of approval. Junghan starts a steady rhythm of scratching Mingyu's head. The alpha slumps against him more, body relaxing with each scratch.

Junghan thinks he's asleep until suddenly Mingyu mutters, "He was my best friend."

Junghan tries to tilt his head to look at him. "Junhui?"

Mingyu nods, and grunts as he tries to get up. He seems unable to, however, so he rests both elbows on either side of Junghan's head and puts his chin in his hands, looking like a child. Their noses almost touch with how close they are.

"He was my best friend," Mingyu repeats. "We thought it was a good idea to be business partners."

"How long did you know him?" Junghan asks.

Mingyu scrunches up his nose as he thinks, and Junghan finds it so, so cute. "A long time. Long time. Since we were kids. Our moms were friends."

Junghan hums in response. His chest is starting to feel a bit tight, his stomach curling, like it gets when he's nervous, and he thinks it's because he's never really discussed anything this personal with Mingyu. Mingyu already knew a lot about Junghan- mostly about Hansol, because that was the only important defining factor in his life- but Junghan barely knew anything about him.

"I think," Mingyu's face is starting to flush. "I think he had. A lot of problems growing up. He was sad. I didn't know. I was stupid. I wasn't paying attention. We thought it was a good idea." He looks down, eyes on Junghan's neck instead of looking him in the eye. "I think he tried to kill himself in law school. I found him in the bathtub underwater. I thought he was just drunk, but I think he wanted to die."

Junghan's fingers curl a little bit tighter in Mingyu's hair, but the younger doesn't seem to notice, continuing with his story. He's lisping a bit, and his eyes are starting to get glassy, and Junghan wishes he wasn't drunk, wishes they were having this conversation with both of them sober so he could really understand how Mingyu felt about it. But maybe Mingyu had never talked about this before, and maybe this was the only way he could get it all out.

"I think the company was too much for him," Mingyu's voice shakes. "I think it was too much pressure. God, I'm so _stupid,_ I should've realized something was wrong. What kind of friend am I? I didn't even know he was depressed. I thought everything was fine. He got married and had a kid, and that's how it's supposed to be, y'know?"

Junghan's own words ring in his head, said so many times to himself over and over when Hansol had left. This is how it's supposed to be. Mingyu's bottom lip has started trembling.

"I miss him, Junghan," He raises his gaze to meet Junghan's. "I miss him so much. He was my best friend." Junghan's heart squeezes in his chest as a tear rolls down Mingyu's cheek. "It wasn't my fault, right?"

Junghan lurches forward suddenly, moving Mingyu's hands away from his own face so Junghan could cup it instead. "No, Mingyu," Junghan whispers, and he feels like crying too. Had Mingyu been thinking for almost a year he was the source of Junhui's depression? That he was the reason he'd died? "It's not your fault. Don't say that." Junghan wipes at his tears with his thumb, trying to smile. "You were his best friend, too. He was suffering, and there was nothing you could do to help. Don't blame yourself."

Mingyu lets out a broken sort of sound, somewhere between a gasp and a sob. The tears are flowing more freely now, and Junghan can't wipe them fast enough. He pulls Mingyu close again, leaning back so the elder can cry into his shoulder. He threads his fingers in his messy hair, wrapping his other arm around him and rubbing his back.

"It's not your fault," Junghan repeats, and Mingyu just cries harder into his sweater.

 

The next morning, Junghan doesn't mention what happened when he bumps into Mingyu sleepily in the hallway. He mumbles a good morning and is about to head for the bathroom when Mingyu grabs his wrist and spins him back around, bringing him close enough that their faces are inches apart and Junghan can't avoid looking into Mingyu's eyes. They're soft again, fond and similar to something like love, and it makes Junghan's heartbeat pick up tenfold. Mingyu doesn't say anything, just leans down slowly so that his lips hover over the elders. He waits, patiently, and after a moment of wondering why, Junghan realizes he's still asking permission. Junghan takes it upon himself to push himself up onto his tiptoes to press their lips together. Mingyu smiles into the kiss, wrapping his arm around Junghan's waist so he can pull him closer and press their chests together. Junghan's almost being lifted off the ground by the time Mingyu pulls away, murmuring, "I have to go to work," against his lips and Junghan nods in response, dazed. Mingyu grins at him, smoothing the omega's hair down and tucking it behind his ears. Junghan stares at him, still seeing stars, until he's shaken from it when Mingyu heads into the bathroom and he realizes he was just cheated out of showering first via their first kiss.

He isn't even that angry, honestly.

 

He spends longer than usual mulling over what to wear, and halfway through trying to decide between a white shirt of a pastel blue one he wonders if he's doing this for Mingyu or for Hansol. He ends up going with the blue one, because Hansol had once told him it brings out his eyes (definitely _not_ because he remembers the night he first wore it and he and Hansol had gone back to Jihoon's place drunk and giggling and ended up sleeping together on Jihoon's couch wrapped around each other.)

Mingyu comes home just as Junghan's doing his hair, and in an eagerness that surprises even himself, he runs out of his room and slides on the hard word floors in his red socks. Mingyu looks amused as Junghan comes to a stop right in front of him and immediately pulls him forward by his tie so that he can kiss the alpha.

Mingyu immediately reacts, pulling Junghan against him, hands resting on his hips. Junghan uses the tie to pull the younger down to his level because, really, it wasn't fair that he had a few extra inches on Junghan. Junghan likes how soft his lips are and how he smells warm and comforting.

After a few seconds, Junghan pulls away, trying not to blush. Mingyu grins at him, looking like he was trying to hide how ecstatic he really was.

"Are you going to greet me like that every time I come home from work?" He asks. Junghan hides his smile, twisting Mingyu's tie in his hands.

"Maybe," Junghan says coyly, and Mingyu laughs. He cards his fingers into Junghan's hair, running them through to the ends.

"You should wear your hair up," He says, looking at Junghan fondly. "It looks nice."

Junghan's heart skips a beat, and he thinks of Hansol telling him he liked his hair down better. Of course Mingyu would like the opposite.

Mingyu lets go of him to go to his own room to change, but not after kissing Junghan one last time on the forehead. It makes Junghan's face heat up, and he knows his cheeks are probably pink. He feels like a kid with a crush.

 

The feeling doesn't last. When they reach Jisoo's apartment, which is about the same size as Minghao's and just down the street from Mingyu's, Hansol throws open the door, looking giddy and excited. His hair is slicked back and he's wearing a short sleeve button down and slacks. Junghan has never seen him in something so nice, and suddenly, his breath is taken away.

"Hi," Hansol says to him, smiling so big, and after a moment, glances at Mingyu as well. "Hi, Mr. Kim."

"Hi," Junghan breathes out, still staring at Hansol with glazed over eyes, at the same time Mingyu says, "You can call me Mingyu."

Hansol opens the door wider, gesturing for them to come. Mingyu has to give Junghan a little push to shake him from his daze, and Junghan carefully steps over the threshold. When he passes Hansol, the familiar, crisp, woodsy scent he carries washes over Junghan, and the ache in Junghan's chest is back sevenfold, so strong he almost stumbles from it. He wants to run away; he doesn't think he's ready for this.

Jisoo is in the dining room, placing carefully folded napkins on each dinner plate. He looks the same as he always does- professional, perfect, clean cut. Hansol runs up to him with that same giddiness and grabs his hand, and Junghan's heart lurches in his chest a little.

"It's like a five star restaurant," Mingyu says, sounding amused, and Jisoo bows low to him.

"Thank you, sir," Jisoo replies, and Junghan tries not to snort. Beside him, Mingyu intertwines their fingers. Junghan looks at Hansol to see if he was watching, but his eyes are on Jisoo, his arm looped through the alpha's.

"Let's speak casually tonight, yeah?" Mingyu says to Jisoo. "It's going to be a little awkward if you keep calling me 'sir' all night."

Jisoo gives him a small smile. "Sorry, sir."

Mingyu sighs, and Hansol laughs. Junghan curls his lip watching the way Jisoo grins at Hansol. It makes him feel sick.

There's another knock on the door, and Hansol's eyes light up, running to open it. There's the sound of him greeting someone, and a few seconds later he reappears with Seungcheol at his side.

Jisoo looks surprised. "Oh, Seungcheol. I didn't know you were coming."

Seungcheol looks shy, still wearing what Junghan assumes are his work clothes, hands behind his back. "Junghan asked me to come."

Everyone turns to look at him, including Mingyu, who tightens his grip on Junghan's hand. Junghan rolls his eyes and addresses him when he says, "I invited him to keep Minghao company, okay?"

Hansol smiles at him, and despite not wanting to, Junghan can't help smiling back. Seungcheol just looks a little uncomfortable, bowing at Mingyu when Mingyu greets him.

Jisoo ushers for them to sit in the living room on the couch while he brings them drinks. Junghan sits close to Mingyu, settling into his side with the alpha's arm around him, while Hansol sits on the armchair across from them. Despite Junghan hoping Hansol would look just the tiniest bit jealous, he's anything but. He grins at them openly, too happy for his own good.

"What?" Junghan snaps when he can't take it anymore. Mingyu doesn't seem phased by it, chatting with Seungcheol who's perched in a chair beside the couch.

Hansol's smile only grows wider. "Nothing," He says. "I'm happy for you."

Junghan glares at him. "No, you're not."

Hansol shrugs, getting to his feet to join Jisoo in the kitchen. There's another knock on the door, and Hansol turns on his heel halfway there to head for the door again.

It's Minghao, this time, wearing another black suit and greeting them all with dark circles and dull eyes. He smiles weakly at Junghan and Mingyu, but when he spots Seungcheol his face drops.

"What are you doing here?" Minghao asks, and it comes out sounding angry. Seungcheol frowns, getting to his feet.

"I was-"

Junghan cuts him off. "I invited him." Minghao turns to look at him, brow furrowed. "I didn't want you feeling like a fifth wheel."

Minghao doesn't answer. He looks like he's trying to process this, as though it were something big. Hansol pulls at his wrist, looking worried.

"Are you okay?" Hansol asks gently, and Minghao nods, avoiding his gaze.

"I need to go to the bathroom," Minghao announces loudly, and he shoves past Jisoo who's just coming out of the kitchen with a tray full of drinks to storm into the bathroom. The door slams shut down the hall.

There's silence. Seungcheol is still standing, staring down the hallway with a concerned look.

"Maybe I shouldn't have come," He says slowly. Junghan sighs, wiggling away from Mingyu and getting to his feet.

"No, it's fine." He pulls his hair back and starts picking his way around the coffee table. "I'll go talk to him."

"I'll come, too," Hansol demands, following him. Junghan tries to glare at him to back off, but Hansol ignores him.

The bathroom is far enough that if they whisper, the people in the living room wouldn't be able to hear them. Junghan rapts softly on the door, murmuring, "Minghao? It's Junghan. Can I come in?"

"And Hansol!" Hansol pipes up. Junghan rolls his eyes. There's movement behind the door and the lock clicks, but the door doesn't open.

He and Hansol exchange a look, and then Hansol pushes open the door softly. Minghao is in the corner by the tub, curled up with his face in his knees.

"Minghao," Junghan whispers. He sits down beside him as Hansol closes the door again and leans against it.

Minghao lets out a despairing sob, leaning into Junghan's shoulder. He's obviously crying, eyes red and face splotchy, and Junghan puts an arm around him.

"I'm sorry I invited Seungcheol, we just thought you'd want some company," Junghan starts explaining. "I know it's... a bad time for you right now, you don't have to like him, I just thought-"

"I _do_ like him," Minghao whispers, raising his head. His eyes are glassy and his cheeks wet. "I l-like him a lot."

Junghan can't hide his surprised look. "You do?" He glances at Hansol, and Hansol's face mirrors his own.

"So, what's wrong?" Hansol asks, and Junghan winces, because he has an idea, and Hansol never really thinks about other people's feelings before he speaks.

Minghao gasps through another sob, tears falling again. "It's too soon," He cries. "Next w-week will have only been one year, and, and-" He stutters through his words, unable to speak, and drops his head on Junghan's shoulder again to cry.

Junghan pets Minghao's hair with his free hand. "It's not too soon, Minghao. You deserve to be happy."

"Junhui would want you to be happy," Hansol chimes in, and that only makes Minghao cry harder. Junghan glares at him, mouthing _shut up_. Hansol flips him off.

"He's right, though," Junghan murmurs. "Junhui wouldn't want to see you like this. He'd want you to be happy."

Minghao sobs in response. Hansol drops to his knees as well, moving to sit on Minghao's other side.

"You know it's not selfish, right?" Hansol says, placing a hand on Minghao's back. "Just because you loved him, doesn't mean moving on will change that. You can love more than one person."

Junghan looks up at that. Hansol's eyes are serious, staring right at Junghan, and he feels like he's stuck, captured in his gaze.

"It's not the same," Junghan whispers, so quietly he doesn't think Minghao hears it, but Hansol seems to. "He loves him so much, still."

"There are people who want to love him even more," Hansol murmurs. "He'll never be happy if he doesn't let go of the past."

"Maybe he doesn't want to."

"Maybe he has to."

Minghao sniffles, wiping at his eyes, and raises his head. "We're not talking about me, anymore, are we?" He asks, and he's half laughing now. Junghan grins at him, and Hansol smiles.

"Shut up, yes we are," Junghan says.

Minghao snorts and leans his head back on the wall. "You guys aren't even subtle, honestly."

Junghan can't help but laugh at that, and Hansol follows. Mingyu finds them in the bathroom a few minutes later, doubled over and laughing, Minghao's face still red and tear stained. Mingyu doesn't even question it, just turns on his heel and calls for Jisoo to let him know they're probably going to need more alcohol tonight than he thought.

 

Mingyu brings a pleasantly tipsy Junghan home, smiling fondly at him as Junghan slurs his words and stumbles over the door frame when they reach the apartment. Junghan's chest still aches, and were he more sober, he'd realize it's from spending a night with Hansol like they used to, laughing and smiling and being friends, until he was snapped out of his dreamlike trance by the fact that he had to leave Hansol with Jisoo and he left with Mingyu. If he were more sober, he probably wouldn't tell Mingyu that his chest hurts. The alpha looks worried, helping him out of his clothes and into his bed. He tries to help pull Junghan's hair up for him, but Junghan shakes his head stubbornly, pushing him away.

"You like my hair up," He mumbles, burrowing into the comforters childishly so he could hide from Mingyu's hands. If he were more sober, he would've seen the look Mingyu gave him at his words.

When he's left alone in bed, the lights turned off, he squeezes his eyes shut and replays every interaction he had with Hansol tonight. Every time Hansol laughed at something he said, every time Hansol looked at him instead of Jisoo, every time Hansol sat beside him. His chest tightens even more, and a shiver runs through him. He thinks his stomach is starting to ache as well, and he rolls over onto it, pushing his face into his pillows. He wills himself to go to sleep solely so he won't make himself any sadder than he already is.

 

Junghan lurches awake in the middle of the night, when the apartment is silent and the only light in is room is from the moon outside his balcony. At first, he thinks it's because of his apnea, but he's not choking, and he can breathe just fine. He's still half asleep, assessing himself. His skin was sweaty, hair sticking to his forehead, and he was so, so hot. He must've thrown the comforter on the floor in his sleep because-

Something twists in his stomach, and _oh._ It's wasn't a stomachache. Arousal jolts through him like lightning, snapping him out of his grogginess so fast it could give him whiplash. His heat was here.

As though on queue, there's a knock on his door. It gets more impatient, and finally, Mingyu bursts in. His eyes are dark, piercing through Junghan even in the dimly lit room, and _holy shit_ was his alpha scent always that strong? Junghan had never been around an alpha during his heat, only had Hansol to help him through them, but fuck, Mingyu smelled so good and it was so pungent it made Junghan dizzy.

Mingyu stays frozen by the door, gripping the handle like it was the only thing keeping him from attacking Junghan.

"Junghan," He starts, and his voice is deep, much deeper than Junghan's ever heard it. It sends a shiver down his spine, but over the arousal and his inner omega screaming at him to let Mingyu fuck him into tomorrow, panic twists around his heart like a vine.

"No, get out," Junghan chokes out. "Please, get out."

Mingyu doesn't look like he wants to get out. In fact, it doesn't even look like he heard him. He's taking deep, heavy breaths, chest rising and falling visibly.

"Get out!" Junghan shouts as loudly as he can, though it still sounds weak to his ears. Mingyu's eyes are unfocused, but he seems to hear it, because he slowly starts backing out of the room, pulling the door closed with him.

Once it shuts, Junghan waits for the sound of Mingyu's footsteps going back to his own bedroom, but they never come. He doesn't know if Mingyu is waiting outside his room or is just being quiet, but either way he doesn't really care. He scrambles for his phone on his bedside table, turning it on and squinting against the bright light in the dark.

He dials Hansol's number and sinks back into his mattress, trying his hardest not to flip onto his stomach and rut against it like a teenager. The alpha scent of Mingyu was still overpowering, the only thing he could focus on, but the ache in his chest was like a knife through his heat, a vice that wouldn't let him submit to someone that wasn't Hansol.

"Hello?" Hansol mumbles, voice thick with sleep. Junghan lets out a whimper at how raspy and deep it is.

"Hansol," Junghan whispers. "Hansol, my heat's here."

Hansol is quiet, and Junghan thinks he's probably trying to wake up rather than process what Junghan was saying. But then he says, "Weren't you on suppressants?"

"Yeah," Junghan feels like crying. "I don't know why it's here."

Someone says something in the background, and Hansol replies indistinctly. Junghan thinks he's talking to Jisoo, and a lump starts to form in his throat as he whines, "Hansol..."

"Sorry," Hansol grumbles. "Jisoo says even if you were on suppressants, because you've been living in close proximity to an alpha, they won't work. Mingyu triggered your heat. He'll help you through it."

"I don't want that," Junghan whimpers. "I want you."

There's silence. Hansol heaves a heavy sigh. "Junghan..."

"Please, Hansol, I'm scared," Junghan feels his eyes stinging with tears, and outside his room, he thinks he hears Mingyu's footsteps, pacing back and forth in front of the door. "I need you."

"Stop it, Junghan," Hansol says firmly. "You have Mingyu, you don't need me."

"I don't want Mingyu." Junghan tries to say it as quietly as possible, but he hears Mingyu's footsteps stop suddenly at his words. "I want you."

"I can't do anything, Junghan," Hansol sounds like he's torn between exasperation and sympathy, and it makes the vines twist around Junghan's heart tighter at the way it sounds like he's a burden to the younger. "You need to let Mingyu in. I saw how you looked at him tonight, and I told you, you won't be happy if you don't let go of the past."

Junghan lets out a pathetic sound, wiggling himself into a different position as another jolt of arousal shoots through him. "I don't want to." He sounds like a petulant child.

"I'm turning off my phone, Junghan," Hansol snaps. "This is stupid."

Junghan doesn't even have time to say Hansol's name before the other hangs up. He keeps the phone against his ear, panic rushing through him. He dials the number again, and again, and again. The first time it rings once and he's sent to voicemail, and then it starts immediately going to voicemail. He really did turn his phone off.

Junghan throws his phone a little too hard at the floor. He's probably cracked the screen, but he couldn't care less. He pulls one of his pillows over his face and whines into it. The pillow smells like Mingyu, and it just further confuses him.

 

The next day passes achingly slow, ticking along second by second at such an alarmingly snail like pace Junghan thinks he's going insane. He doesn't even want to get off, despite the fact that the only thing filling his head was the scent of Mingyu. He can hear the alpha outside his room all day, pacing, mumbling to himself, sometimes just sitting right in front of his door. It's only evening when Junghan hears him get up and move to his own room, but he doesn't hear the door close.

Junghan is having an existential crisis. Or rather, he felt his heart being torn in two pieces. One half, the one still wrapped in vines in a suffocating grip, was aching for Hansol. The other half was aching for Mingyu. In his mind, he rationalizes that the only reason that half so desperately wants Mingyu at this moment was purely from a sexual point of view; the omega inside him needed an alpha, and Mingyu was the closest one. Had he been with another alpha, Jihoon or even Jisoo, he probably would be reacting the same way.

But then he also thinks, would he be so distraught over it that he wouldn't even be bothering to deal with the heat himself? The heartache he was suffering seemed deeper than just instinctual, primal needs. He thinks it's similar to Minghao, struggling to accept his feelings for Seungcheol despite him still loving Junhui. Although Hansol's not dead, Junghan can't have him ever again, and he can't seem to wrap his mind around that fact and move on.

 _You won't be happy if you don't let go of the past._ Hansol's voice rings in his ears over and over, and he lets out a despairing sob. Outside, he hears Mingyu knock something over in a rush to move back to his post outside Junghan's room, but he doesn't try to open the door.

Junghan can't imagine the amount of self control it must be taking for Mingyu to hold himself back. He's thinking about just that when he realizes, that, oh, it's exactly the same as his situation. Junghan had too much emotional investment in his feelings to make his heat his first priority, too busy trying to sort his heart out. Mingyu cared about him too much to do anything instinctual. He was more worried about Junghan's feelings than his own primal needs.

Junghan feels like he's going to choke on air at this thought, and he can't scramble out of bed fast enough, kicking the sheets that were sticking to his skin off clumsily as he bolts for the door.

He throws it open and Mingyu is right there, looming over him, but not moving from his place. The alpha swallows hard, eyes blown out and radiating heat and pheromones that made Junghan so dizzy he almost wobbled over.

"Mingyu," Junghan breathes out.

Mingyu takes a deep breath, looking Junghan up and down, and beneath the sparks of arousal there's _worry_ in his dark eyes. Junghan feels the vine untwist from the other half of his heart as he realizes, right then, that this was stupid. He needed to let Mingyu in.

"I'm sorry," Junghan whispers in a rush. "I'm sorry, I panicked. I'm really stupid and I didn't think about your feelings, but I need to move on. And I like you. I need you."

"Are you okay?" Mingyu asks, voice concerned but still as deep as last night, and Junghan wants to hit him for having the audacity to ask such a caring question with a voice that made Junghan's throat dry.

"I'm fine now," Junghan jerks forward so that he's pressed against Mingyu, and it's like a switch is turned on, Mingyu almost immediately lifting Junghan off the ground so the omega can wrap his legs around his waist. They don't kiss, Junghan cupping Mingyu's face in his hands, their lips centimeters from each others. "You've got me."

"I've got you," Mingyu breathes against his lips.

 

"I want you to be my alpha," Junghan says, later, when he's curled up in Mingyu's lap on the couch with the television playing as background noise. Mingyu is running his fingers through his hair, lulling Junghan to sleep as they take a moment while his heat is at bay. He's wearing a large sweatshirt (he thinks it's Mingyu's, because of the scent that clings to it, but honestly, everything smells like him at this point) that makes him feel warm and sleepy.

Mingyu's fingers stop in his hair, and when Junghan glances at his face he looks absolutely shell shocked. Junghan grins, reaching up to poke his forehead.

"Are you sure?" Mingyu stutters out, eyes wide.

"I'm sure," Junghan says simply. "I like you. I might love you."

Mingyu makes a noise that sounds like he's choking on his own spit. He opens his mouth like a goldfish, unable to reply. Junghan laughs, shifting so he can straddle Mingyu and press their foreheads together.

"The offers still on the table, right?" Junghan asks, only half kidding, but Mingyu's expression changes immediately, nodding seriously at the omega.

"Of course," Mingyu confirms. "It always has been."

"Well, then, I accept," Junghan smiles. Mingyu finally smiles back at him, looking like he was just told he was the richest man in the world, and Junghan can't help but start laughing when Mingyu pulls him in to kiss him all over.

 

Mingyu drops Junghan off at Minghao's apartment on Monday, leaning over to give him a long kiss goodbye before he goes. Junghan smiles into it, feeling giddy. He tries to chase the alpha when he pulls back, but Mingyu just smirks at him and tells him he's going to be late. Junghan pouts the whole elevator ride up, and when he reaches Minghao's floor he's surprised when another elevator across from him opens and Jisoo steps out.

"Oh, Junghan," He says, smiling. Junghan smiles back, probably a bit too happily, because Jisoo looks a bit thrown off.

"Hi, Jisoo," Junghan replies. "Carpooling again? How was your weekend?"

Jisoo shrugs. "It was okay. Hansol wanted to go to a club Saturday night, but I'm not much of a party person."

Junghan snorts. "Oh, my God. Good luck with that, then. He'd go clubbing every single night if given the opportunity."

Jisoo laughs, and they walk to Minghao's apartment together. Junghan's about to punch in the key code when he pauses, turning to look at the alpha.

"Um, Jisoo," Junghan shifts on his feet. Jisoo gives him an expectant look. "I'm sorry about... the other night. It was really stupid of me to call Hansol, and I don't want you thinking I'm getting in the way of your relationship."

"Oh, that?" Jisoo shakes his head. "It's no problem. I don't care. Hansol obviously cares about you a lot, and you two have history, so it's inevitable that you'll have moments like that. But you're important to Hansol, so," Jisoo puts a hand on Junghan's shoulder comfortingly. "You're important to me."

Junghan raises an eyebrow. "That was lame."

Jisoo scoffs. "Shut up. I'm serious."

Junghan tries to hide his smile. His chest feels warm, the ache that had been residing there the past two weeks replaced by a full, happy feeling. "Thanks, Jisoo."

Jisoo winks at him, punching in the key code himself. When they enter, they hear more than one voice, and when they round the corner they found Seungcheol sitting cross legged on the floor, watching Chan walk in circles in front of him with a big smile. He looks up and flushes a bit, biting his lip.

"Hey, Junghan," He says, and Junghan grins at him. Seungcheol's face gets a little redder and he turns his attention back to Chan, cooing at the toddler as he shows off his newfound walking skills for the beta.

Minghao appears beside Junghan, tying his tie around his neck, and watching Seungcheol play with his son with an obvious fondness. Junghan smirks at him, and when Minghao notices he elbows Junghan hard in the ribs.

"Shut up," Minghao grumbles, face as red as Seungcheols, and Junghan just smiles wider.

Maybe this wasn't how things were supposed to be, but as he watches Minghao sit on the floor beside Seungcheol, and Chan walk into his father's outstretched arms, Mingyu's words ring in his head. _I've got you._

Maybe this wasn't how things were supposed to be, but Junghan will definitely take it.

**Author's Note:**

> there are multiple people i'd like to thank for this!
> 
> 1\. katie, for being my beta and best friend and sticking with me through this whole mess and cheering me on when i thought i wouldn't be able to finish. thank you for holding my hand through my first (official!) nanowrimo fic.  
> 2\. jinny, for inspiring this. she and i came up with this au in /february/, and i've been working on it since then. without her this au wouldn't exist.  
> 3\. gabby, for letting me ask her opinion on multiple points of this fic despite her not even being a seventeen stan (and also helping me pick a title)  
> 4\. vi, for being herself.  
> 5\. whoever you are reading this, for making it this far. thank you!
> 
> comments and feedback are appreciated :^) thank you for reading my baby lol, and you can come yell at me and talk au's on twitter @ballerinaten


End file.
